Dead Man Walking
by windlily
Summary: Hitsugaya's disappearance left Seireitei with plenty of unanswered questions, but when a boy, identical to the supposedly late taichou, appears on Earth, what lengths will everyone go to find out why? And when the answer does come, will it be too late?
1. Prologue: Bury Me Deep

Yup. It's me again. I come bearing a reincarnation fic.

Although it's probably not the best idea to be posting this so soon after offering to write a fic for someone else and with TIW still a long way from completion, I've been forming the plot for this one in my head for a very long time now, and with summer only a week away, I can't wait any longer to start it up. So start it up I shall.

But I also feel the need to say that because it's me writing it, you can bet it's not going to be the stereotypical happy-fluffy-bunny-love reincarnation fic. So if you're looking for immortal love breaking the boundaries of life and death, you'll probably have better luck elsewhere. Here, you're more likely to find Hitsugaya torture, Matsumoto angst, Ichigo and Renji mass confusion, Ichimaru and Aizen utter villianism, and wonderful Urahara … well, Uraharaness.

Disclaimer: I own plenty of bleach, just not the Bleach I'd prefer.

**

* * *

**

"_Shut your eyes and sing to me"_

_Shut Your Eyes,_ _Snow Patrol_

* * *

**Prologue**

Bury Me Deep

* * *

The battle field raged with carnage and gore and shinigami barely able to continue their fight. But able or not, continue they did. Because it was the only thing they could do.

Aizen Sousuke's plans had been followed through and disrupted in the worst possible way. Now the shinigami of Soul Society and whatever little help they managed to scrounge up from elsewhere were locked in a war of epic proportions against Aizen's many hollow-derived soldiers. Casualties were exceeding estimated amounts on both sides as nearly all of the Third and Fifth Divisions were demolished, the Eleventh falling close behind as it was taking the front lines, and the Espada were left as Aizen's only remaining true offense. They had managed to take the fights away from the living world, but that was only a small consolation.

Ukitake Jyuushirou stared out across the ravaged battle field in awe. It was hell. In every sense of the word.

"Status report!" he barked shakily into the Hell Butterfly fluttering near his ear. "All divisions! Everyone! Status report!"

"First Division reporting!" called out a weary Sasakibe-fukutaichou. "Yamamoto-soutaichou is currently engaging Tousen with Komamura-taichou. Casualties have exceeded 300, but we are gaining ground."

"Second Division!" Soifon-taichou's voice verberated through the Hell Butterfly. "Oumaeda is dead, but other casualties have been kept to a minimum. We have Seireitei under control for the time being."

"Third Division reporting!" coughed Kira-fukutaichou. "We have retreated to the edges of Rukongai's 74th District! Casualties have risen far over half. I'm not sure how long we can hold out!"

"Fourth Division reporting!" scrambled Isane-fukutaichou. "Unohana-taichou is currently with Fifth Division! Casualties have not yet passed 150, but it's looking grim."

"Fifth Division!" spluttered Hinamori-fukutaichou, nearly hyperventilating in her anxiety. "We've sustained heavy casualties! Nearly three-fourths! Unohana-taichou's doing all she can, but I'm not sure we can hold our position much longer! It's awful!"

"Sixth Division!" grunted Abarai-fukutaichou. "Kuchiki-taichou is at it with some crazy Espada, Ulqui-something or other! We're holding out well enough; casualties are under 180, I think. We've gained a mile or so, but nothing more."

"Seventh Division reporting!" Iba-fukutaichou shouted. "Komamura-taichou is holding his own with Yamamoto-soutaichou! We've held our position but advancing has become difficult! Casualties have exceeded 200!"

"Eighth Division reporting!" came Shunsui's strained voice. "Nanao's been gravely injured, but we've managed to gain ground with minimal casualties. Hana-kun of Fourth is currently stationed with our division. He deserves a raise."

"Ninth Division reporting!" Hisagi-fukutaichou called in turn. "Casualties have reached 350. We are currently at a stalemate. I'm not sure how long it will last."

A pause.

"Eleventh Division!" howled Madarame between sword clashes. "I'm kinda busy right now! Kenpachi-taichou's off with Yachiru fighting with some guy named Noitora! He'll slice that Espada's ass!"

"Twelfth Division reporting!" he barely heard Kurotsuchi-fukutaichou's voice over the other sounds of fighting. "Mayuri-sama is engaging the Espada known as Zaera-Polo. He appears to have the upper hand, though he is wounded. Casualties exceed 200, and we are losing ground steadily. We have retreated to the southern Rukongai District 78."

"Thirteenth Division reporting!" thundered a distraught Kotetsu Kiyone, obviously crying. "Sentaro's gone, sir, and casualties are quickly rising past 130! We have gained a few miles, but we have also reached a stalemate, sir!"

"I-Inoue Orihime reporting!" stuttered Inoue-san, sounding just as weary as the rest of them. "We-We're all still alive, but Mizuiro's been badly injured! I'm healing him right now! Ichigo and everyone are fighting Grimmjow and Wonderwice! I-I don't think they're losing…."

Another pause.

"Tenth Division! Report!" shouted Ukitake-taichou, trying not to sound as anxious as he really was. "Tenth Division!"

"Ukitake-taichou!" Ukitake turned to see the third seat of the Tenth Division, Hideyoshi Kazuki, running toward him and cupping something tightly in his hands.

"Why has no one responded for Ten-"

"We've got a big problem, Ukitake-taichou!" Hideyoshi huffed. Blood and sweat mingled as they slid down his forehead into his fearful brown eyes. Ukitake did not like that expression. Kazuki-kun was many things, but he was never easily frightened. That desperate stare… It could only mean one thing. Something had happened to his superiors. Something bad.

"What's happened?" he asked urgently.

"Hitsugaya-taichou and Matsumoto-san won't respond! They were fine a second ago, then…! I don't know! They just stopped reporting! It doesn't make any sense! We were hoping you could help. We didn't know what else to do. Maybe … maybe they'll say something if it's you."

The third seat unfurled his hands to reveal a Hell Butterfly with a broken wing. That alone was a bad sign; the butterflies tended to take on similar injuries to their counterparts. That meant Hitsugaya's Hell Butterfly was almost certainly damaged as well. Ukitake allowed himself a quick cough into the folds of his sleeve before he carefully took it from Hideyoshi's fingers and held it to his ear. He could hear nothing for a long, agonizing moment, but then came soft, measured breathing accompanied by an unceremonious thud. He let out a sigh of relief at the proof of life, lowering the butterfly closer to his lips.

"Hitsugaya-kun? Rangiku-chan?" he whispered, no louder than the breathing he heard on the other end. He was aware of a sharp gasp, definitely Hitsugaya, followed by hasty shuffling. "Hitsugaya-kun," he tried again. "Hitsugaya-kun, can you hear me?"

He heard something that sounded disturbingly like the young taichou vomiting.

"Uki…take…taichou?" The voice was strained and scratchy, but it was there.

"Yes, Hitsugaya-kun. It's Ukitake-taichou. Where's Rangiku-chan?"

A pause. "With me," he finally managed. "She's down, but … I don't think … she's gone." The pain Ukitake realized he must be feeling manifested itself in every single word he spoke. Not good. Not only was Rangiku out for the count, but Hitsugaya didn't sound far behind.

"What's wrong with her? What's going on?" Ukitake asked as he motioned for Hideyoshi to get someone in Twelfth Division to trace the other Hell Butterfly's location. They needed to find him as soon as possible. Until then, it was best to keep him talking. A little pain was always better than death.

"I'm … not sure. I can't … see … very well."

"Why not?"

"Everything's blurry. Minor … concussion … I think. And…"

"And what, Hitsugaya-kun?" he pressed.

"And … I only have … one eye left … to see with."

"What happened?" Ukitake demanded. The seriousness of the situation had just escalated another notch.

"Fighting … Espada, but … he … got help."

"What kind of help? What happened, Hitsugaya-kun?!"

"Ukitake-taichou … I have to get … Matsumoto … out of here."

"I understand. Just stay where you are. We're tracing your location as I speak. We'll get both of you to someone from Fourth Division as soon as we can."

"No," Hitsugaya countered, his raspy voice taking on a new intensity. "We have to … get out of here _now_ … before …"

"Before what?"

"Shi-!"

"Hitsugaya-kun! Hitsugaya-kun!" Ukitake could hear hasty shuffling followed by a grunt that he assumed was Hitsugaya attempting to pick up his fukutaichou. More shuffling, then came something that chilled him to his very bones. A scream. "Hitsugaya-kun!"

"Well, well, well. If it ain' the li'l taichou that got away."

Ukitake felt sick. A nausea that had nothing to do with his illness. He recognized that voice, and he recognized the sound that came after. The gut-wrenching sound of a zanpakutou being withdrawn from flesh. A squelching thud as something collapsed into a pool of what could only be blood.

"Nighty night, li'l taichou," the voice of Ichimaru Gin bounced off of every fiber within Ukitake's being.

"We have the location, Ukitake-taichou!" bellowed from his own, uninjured Hell Butterfly.

"Shunsui!" he yelled hoarsely, a crippling coughing fit threatening to invade his throat despite his valiant efforts to hold it back. Now was no time to wallow in his weaknesses.

"I heard everything! See you there!"

From opposite sides of the battlefield, two of the oldest and most experienced division heads stepped into a simultaneous shunpo. It took them no longer than a few minutes to bypass the countless miles between them. When they arrived however, it became clear that they had not been fast enough.

Ukitake released himself from his shunpo to meet the back of his closest friend, bent over a near-dead Hell Butterfly laying in a particularly large pool of sticky, crimson blood. Enough blood, in fact, to officially declare two shinigami beyond recovery. Yet…

"Jyuushirou…" Shunsui trailed off, his voice heavy.

Ukitake did not reply. What could he say? The Rukongai road they looked out on was covered in blood and bodies.

But Hitsugaya and Matsumoto were nowhere to be seen.

* * *

Prologue End

* * *


	2. Ignorance Before Bliss

A quick, unexpected parting gift before AX.

I've said before that I've had issues with OCs in the past, but TIW has given me new confidence in this area. I hope I've managed to live up to that confidence in this fic. Also, I feel like I have to say that because this is a reincarnation-based fic, it will be one or two chapters until any real canon characters are introduced. So try to put up with me for a bit longer, okay?

* * *

"_What if God was one of us__  
Just a slob like one of us__"_

_If God Was One of Us, Joan Osborn_

* * *

**Chapter One**

Ignorance Before Bliss

* * *

"_And here I thought you had learned your lesson."_

"_Some things never change. Other things … are always changing."_

"_A dragon never takes defeat lightly."_

"_Taichou! What are you doing?!"_

"_Well, it was fun while it lasted."_

"_You never did them any good. But perhaps, you may prove beneficial to me."_

"_Where am I? Who are you? Who … am I?"_

You are not who you are supposed to be.

* * *

_BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! _Click.

"Gooooooood morning, Karakura! It's six o' clock sharp Monday morning, the weather's perfect, and we're-"

A slender, well toned arm reached out to turn off the alarm clock then fell limply back down to the side of the bed.

Silence prevailed for several blissful minutes before…

"Shoutei-chaaaaan!" came a voice far too loud and optimistic for this early in the morning. The voice was accompanied by a body which then proceeded to slam itself down onto the bed. "Time to wake up!"

"Gaagh! How many times do I have to tell you?! Don't do that! Honestly! The day you listen to me, I bet hell will freeze over!" a gruff voice, very much in contrast to the happy-go-lucky one that had come before it, shouted angrily as covers flew in every which direction. A miniature wrestling match ensued.

"The day I listen to you will be the day you actually wake up in the morning, so yes, most likely hell will freeze over," the first voice smirked triumphantly when its owner easily overpowered her opponent.

"Yeah, yeah. Now get out of my room, baka-nee-san!" A few well aimed pillows later, the owner of the room was once again alone. He sighed, running his fingers through his hair before finally searching his closet for a clean uniform.

He did not like mornings. He hadn't always felt that way, but recently they were bothering him more and more. There was just something about them that always made him wish he didn't even exist. Maybe it was those dreams he'd been having lately, he mused absently. But, no. That didn't make sense. Dreams didn't make you want to disappear, did they?

With a wry smirk, he threw on the Mashiba Middle School uniform and trudged into the bathroom. The sight that met him in the mirror was not pretty. Bed head with hair like his? It was downright frightening. He forced a comb through most of it before getting impatient and moving on to gel. He barely needed any; his hair tended to style itself. As he washed his hands, he continued to watch his reflection in the mirror. His eyes traced a thin scar that ran from the center of his brow down diagonally to his right ear, then hastily turned the other way to grab his toothbrush. After a few more minutes of getting himself ready, he left the bathroom, grabbed his backpack, and headed downstairs. Something smelled good in the kitchen.

"Did you brush your teeth?"

"Where's Okkaa-san?" he replied with another question, not bothering to answer hers.

"Already left for work. And Gankooyaji's still in bed."

The boy snorted as he set down his school bag in the living room and entered the kitchen, searching for the source of the smell. It was his sister, flipping something over the stove. Sure, he had thought it smelled good, but… "What is that?" he asked, pointing to the flat, doughy object she was currently fighting with a spatula.

"Pancakes! American food's all the rage these days. I thought I'd try and make some," she grinned as she finally managed to force the now golden-brown concoctions from the pan. She tossed one on a plate and handed it to him. "Tell me what you think."

He did. "It looks like road kill."

"Looks don't matter when it comes to food!" she huffed defensively, bonking him on the head with her free hand. "Now, hurry up and eat! We're going to have to walk to school today."

"I only answered your stupid question," he grumbled more to himself than to her as he rubbed his sore head and sat down at the dining table, forcing a bite of the foreign substance down his throat. He stopped for a moment, staring down at the pancake awkwardly. Then he continued eating.

It was really good.

* * *

"Kou-kun! Kou-kun!"

"Don't call me that! It's Kouryuu! My name is Shi-mi-zu Kou-_ryuu_!" the boy shouted hoarsely as he and his sister made it to his middle school just in time for one of the most annoying people he knew to greet him.

"But 'Kouryuu' doesn't match you at all!" Yamashima Miki exalted as he caught up with the brother-sister duo. "See, this is how it works. Akane," he pointed to Kouryuu's sister, "is Ane-san because she's like everybody's big sister! And you, my friend, are Kou-kun because you're anything _but_ a dragon!"

"That's stupid," Kouryuu grunted, eyes narrowing as Akane muffled a giggle.

"My logic is undeniable!" Miki shouted, shaking his fist overdramatically as he too laughed at his friend's lack of anything resembling a sense of humor. Just before Kouryuu was about to explode however, he grabbed his hand and ran off. "Bye, Ane-san!"

"Bye, Miki! Bye, Kouryuu! Have a good day!" she called back, waving as her little brother battled with the over-exuberant Miki all the way through the front gates. Once they were out of sight, she continued on her way to Karakura High. And as she thought of what she had just seen this morning, she couldn't help but smile.

The way he had been a couple of months ago, she had been afraid he would never recover.

* * *

"So you really think that's him?" asked a be-hatted figure, sitting down on a park bench across the street from Mashiba Junior High School. His tone was a strange mixture of derisiveness and sympathy that, combined with his drawl, made him sound as if he was rather enjoying himself.

The answer came from the other side of a tree directly behind the bench. It was sure and steadfast, disregarding the figure's antagonistic mannerisms completely. "It's him."

"How can you be so sure? You barely saw him before that other brat kidnapped him," the figure chuckled. Now it was obvious he was having fun. "And I'd imagine hiding back there like you are would only lessen your chance of being able to tell. Kids are dyeing their hair left and right these days. And plenty of them are grumpy and anti-social. It's very possible that this kid is just another mindless drone of the world's modern society."

Silence followed as if the figure's companion was not willing to even dignify him with a reply. This reaction only seemed to fuel his amusement. He stood up, adjusting his hat to shade his eyes and swinging his cane in widening arcs with practiced dexterity.

"You know very well that if this kid were him it would defy all known laws governing life and death."

"It's him."

"So we scrap their rules and make our own, then?" he grinned as he set off down the street. "Sounds good to me."

* * *

Kouryuu tried his best to ignore Miki's loud chattering, but he was failing miserably. He had no interest in the fact that he had gone to a concert over the weekend nor in the fact that he had met a cute girl at said concert. In fact, he had already said this several times this morning. But none-the-less, Miki was determined to give him every last detail.

"Ah! Kouryuu-kun! Miki-kun!"

Kouryuu, glad for any interruption at all, turned around to see Suzuki Nyoko and Nakamura Takeshi walking toward them. Nyoko was the one who had called; she was the only person in the whole blasted school who ever addressed him by his actual name. He opened his mouth to reply, but Miki beat him to it.

"Ta-kun! Nyoko-chan! Good morning!" he beamed, jumping up from his seat and running over to the two newcomers.

"How can you be so energetic so early on a Monday?" Takeshi whined, setting his book bag down on his desk.

"He's always energetic, Takeshi-kun," Nyoko smiled in response.

Kouryuu watched the conversation without getting up. He had wanted to say something to Nyoko, but when he thought about it there really was no point. Besides, talking with people his age had never been a strong skill of his. Give him a psychology professor or an English teacher and usually he could get involved in a worthwhile discussion. But with someone like Miki constantly dragging him everywhere, he was very much out of his element.

Speaking of which… He sighed.

Three.

Two.

One.

"Kou-kuuuun!" Miki wailed. Kouryuu reluctantly got up from his seat and walked over to them. Well, he walked half-way. The other half consisted of Miki once again grabbing his arm and hauling him over. "Honestly! If it weren't for me, you wouldn't talk to anybody who wasn't already dead!"

Kouryuu offered the boy a deadly glare. Unfortunately, by now he had done the same so often that it no longer fazed him. Takeshi laughed a bit, but Nyoko looked worried. One look at her face and with a sigh he gave in, slumping his shoulders in defeat.

"Don't waste your time on the likes of him, Kou," Takeshi smirked, still laughing. "He'll just take whatever you say as a compliment."

"I resent that, coming from someone named 'Takeshi,'" Miki countered instantly.

"And what's wrong with my name?!"

"It's weird!"

"And 'Miki' isn't?! You're named after a plant stem for goodness' sake!"

"So are you!"

"They're at it again…" Nyoko sighed, turning to him with an expression somewhere between guilt and amusement.

"They're idiots," Kouryuu huffed in reply.

"Kouryuu-kun…" she began, but whatever she had been about to say was cut short as Kihashi-sensei entered the room.

"Alright! Class is starting. Everybody in your seats so I can check who's here."

Kouryuu sat back down, looking out the window and tuning the professor out, a task much easier than dealing with Miki. He frowned. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

Shimizu Akane trudged out of the front gates of Karakura High, sighing with relief that school was finally out. After a quick perimeter check, she found her little brother idling by a 'no parking' sign. Grinning broadly, she ran over to him, and they began their trek back home.

It didn't take her long to realize that something was wrong. A pout forming along her lips, she set her hand on his head and proceeded to rub it viciously back and forth across his scalp.

"What the hell are you doing!?" he shouted, trying desperately to shove her away, but she would not be swayed. She only continued the motion faster and faster.

"Something's wrong! I know it! But you won't talk to me unless I make you!" she whined. "So I'm gonna _make sure_ you tell me! If you don't tell me, I'll never stop! Never, ever, ever, ever-!"

"Okay, okay! I get it! Just stop already!"

Akane grinned, flushed with victory as she finally let up, leaving Kouryuu to cradle his head indignantly. He was adorable, looking for all the world as if he had just been violated or something. But the underlying coldness that plagued his otherwise disgruntled expression brought her back to the reality.

"So what's wrong?"

The tiniest tinge of a blush crept across his cheeks as he turned away from her, frown deepening. "Miki … was talking about how I can see ghosts."

She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Only two people knew of Kouryuu's interesting ability: her and Miki. And they had found out after spying on him; he had never intended to tell either of them if given the choice. What made it even worse was that Miki didn't believe it in the slightest. "Well, at least he's acknowledged it, right?"

She received an aggravated grunt for her efforts to console him. "He was only joking around, teasing me. He still doesn't believe me. He just thinks I'm insane," he mumbled.

Akane didn't know what to do. Kouryuu had never been very social, and as long as she had known him he had always seemed detached. But despite all of his complaints and insults, he really did care about what people thought of him. He really did care about people.

He really did care.

And it hurt him to know that someone else took something so important to him completely for granted.

She didn't realize her compassion had reached her expression until she noticed he had stopped walking. She turned around to see him, arms folded across his chest and looking anywhere but at her. "Look," he grumbled, "it's really not that big of a deal. But I know you're going to obsess over it forever if you don't get it out of your system. So … I give you permission."

"Permission?" she asked, bewildered. When his pink-tinged cheeks took on a raspberry hue however, she finally understood. Eyes welling up and smile growing all too big for her face, she dropped her backpack and jumped about two inches in front of his nose in her excitement.

She ruffled that adorable white hair, kissed the nose between two embarrassed green eyes, and hugged her little brother so tight she doubted he could even breathe.

"I love you, Shirou-chan!"

And, despite it all, Shimizu Kouryuu couldn't suppress the smallest of smiles.

* * *

Chapter One End

* * *

**Shoutei -** younger brother, foolish brother

**Okkaa-san** – polite term for mother

**Gankooyaji **– stubborn or obstinate father, pig-headed old man, Kurosaki Isshin

**Mashiba Junior High** – the middle school that Ichigo and Chad attended

**Miki** – stem

**Nyoko** – gem, treasure

**Takeshi** – bamboo tree, brave


	3. No Penetration

A lot of you seem to have decided who these guys are already, but, just so you don't have a heart attack after reading this chapter, try to keep in mind that I wrote the last chapter so vaguely for a reason.

There is a method to the madness. I promise.

* * *

"_Made my mistakes, let you down  
And I can't, I can't hold on for too long  
Ran my whole life in the ground  
And I can't, I can't get up when you're gone"_

_Only One, Yellowcard_

* * *

**Chapter Two**

No Penetration

* * *

"You're back."

"Yeah."

"Thank you for always coming," the woman smiled as she sat down on the small, stone bench overlooking the many plaques embedded into the earth around it. "I really do appreciate it." The boy next to her waved her words away and set the golden daffodil he held in his hands down on the nearest plaque.

"I don't come to see you," he sighed simply.

She only shook her head and turned to face the freshly picked flower that lie on the grave. "I know. But I still appreciate it."

A comfortable silence followed as the two let the breeze of the afternoon flow against them. She had come to know the boy through his consistent visits to this spot, at least three times a week for the past four or five months. He had come more often at first, but she wasn't one who could judge his loyalty. She knew she would have stopped coming altogether months ago.

He never said very much, but she had still been able to learn quite a bit about him.

"So no luck today then?" she finally interrupted the quiet stillness.

"No," he replied, letting free a bitter laugh. "I really should just give up, shouldn't I?"

The woman frowned, lifting a hand to caress his cheek. "Do you want to give up?" He looked up at her, brows furrowed in question. She sighed, leaning back against the bench and staring into the sky. "If you want to give up, then give up. You've waited long enough, right? But if you only think you _should_ give up, then don't. Because it doesn't matter what you should do. What really matters in the end is what you want to do."

The boy was quiet for a time before he too leaned back and gazed up at the clouds. "I don't want to give up," he whispered, his voice barely audible above the breeze.

"Then don't," she huffed, ruffling his hair playfully. "You keep waiting. And I'll keep waiting. And, maybe, someday we'll both find who we're waiting for."

"Who are _you_ waiting for?" he asked.

She could tell he was hesitant, but she really didn't mind answering the question. She just smiled. "I'm waiting for my guardian angel. I want to see her or maybe even his face just once, you know? The person who's been looking out for me my entire life. What about you? Who are you waiting for?"

"I…" he began, but he was interrupted by a young man in an elaborate tuxedo.

"Um … Kid, would you mind leaving? We're about to start a memorial service and this bench is going to be part of the seating."

Kouryuu nodded and turned to finish what he was going to say, but the woman had disappeared. With a sigh, he stood up and allowed himself one last look at the plaque on which he had set the daffodil.

"I'll tell you later," he whispered, the smallest of smiles tracing his lips as he walked away.

* * *

"You really want to go through with this, then?" the figure asked one last time, handing his companion the pair of high-heeled shoes that would complete the scrounged together ensemble of modern Earth fashion.

"Yes," came the quiet reply. "I have no choice. We have to get to him before Soul Society makes a move. And … before Aizen realizes what we're trying to do."

"You know, I could always do it instead. I'm a much better actor than you, my dear. And I've proved it to you on countless occasions," he grinned as the second person snatched at the shoes and stuffed them unceremoniously onto unwilling feet.

"Like I said," the voice huffed before its owner stomped out the door. "I have no choice."

* * *

"I guess you didn't get to see them this time either," Akane sighed from her place in front of the kitchen sink. She handed another newly clean bowl over for her little brother to dry.

Kouryuu dried it and put it away before answering. "No."

The older sibling looked down at the younger silently as he dried yet another bowl. This whole "big sister" thing was just getting harder and harder, wasn't it? _But…_ She stared into those teal eyes, alight with mature intelligence and yet still harboring the precious innocence of childhood.

_But it was all worth it._

"You know, Kouryuu. Ever since the first time we … met," she began, hesitating before supplying the last word in place of what she had originally been about to say, "I've been thinking a lot more than before, and I've been noticing things I never noticed before." She paused, allowing Kouryuu to put the last dish away as she tried to gather exactly what she was trying to say.

"You're the best little brother a girl could ask for. You're smart, strong, caring, and utterly adorable," she added, grinning as he scowled. "And patient. Very patient."

When Kouryuu didn't respond she sighed lightly and sat down on the floor, beckoning him to join her. He did so, though not without a confused frown. She threw an arm around his neck and leaned her head on his shoulder. "There's nothing wrong with being so patient. In fact, I love that as much as I love everything else about you. It's just that maybe … maybe it's time for you to stop waiting and start moving forward again."

"I don't want to give up," he whispered with conviction. "I don't want to. Not yet."

Akane snorted as she lifted herself to her feet once more. "Well, then, you could at least let me take you to a florist, and we can get some real flowers for the next time," she smirked, patting him roughly on the head. "My Shirou-chan deserves only the best!"

"Oi! Don't call me that with Okkaa-san around!" he groaned as he scrambled up from the floor to chase after her. "Or I'll _never_ hear the end of it!"

"Shirou-chan! Shirou-chan! Shirou-chan!" she chanted blissfully until Kouryuu tackled her right back down to the ground. The chanting immediately dissolved into a laughing fit, the two teenagers wrestling each other yet again, as they did to solve every problem that came between them.

"Ha! I win again!" cheered Akane, fist flying in the air as she heaved her way up against the living room sofa. Kouryuu was breathing heavily, still laying sprawled out on the floor. "That Karate Club's obviously doing you no good! You'd probably get farther learning from _me_!"

"I can do both."

"Huhn?" she blurted, looking over at her brother as he pulled himself into a sitting position.

"I can wait and move forward at the same time. I can do both," he stated simply, every bit of his glorious stubbornness shining through.

Her smile widened another notch. "You're the best multi-tasker I know."

* * *

_Breathing heavily, the boy wiped blood and sweat from his brow before chancing a look down at the devastation surrounding him from his position high up on the rock face. All around, men and women clashed swords to claws as they battled fearsome monsters. A few bodies were strewn broken and bloody on the cold, hard ground, but luckily, those still fighting vastly outnumbered them. He would just have to make sure things stayed that way._

_The boy tensed suddenly and growled, a deep, penetrating guttural noise that did not quite fit with his short stature. "Who are you?" he hissed, turning around to face a much taller man who had just appeared behind him. _

_The newcomer had dark hair and the remnants of a white mask hung from his jaw. An unnatural hole encroached upon his sternum. Somehow it only served to make him seem more menacing. Then again, the feeling could have come from the very deadly-looking weapon he carried instead. __The man shrugged noncommittally at the question, looking more bored than anything else. "You can call me Stark, I guess," he grunted. "I don't really care, to be honest."_

"_You are Espada." _

_The statement brought a grin to the man's lips. "Yeah, but I'm not as into all of this fighting as the others are," he replied, motioning to the many monsters engaging in bloody battles around them. "I prefer to watch as my enemies are cut down by someone else. It really is refreshing, to see carnage like this right after a good nap. It's just as thrilling as the actual fight, yet there's no mess to clean off of my uniform afterward."_

_The boy's teal eyes flared icy blue with righteous anger. Those were _his_ men out there! And this monster had the gall to sit here and tell him to his face that he enjoyed watching as they were slaughtered?! That was worse than if he had been killing them himself! _"_How dare you!" he yelled in his rage, lifting his sword – no, his _dragon_ – to aim directly between the man's half-lidded eyes. Energy spewed from his core outward, blowing his uniform into the air with its intensity. The already over-cast sky took on an ominous shift as the clouds grew darker and more condensed._

_A single drop of rain fell between the two, soon followed by another and another and another._

"_Oh my," Stark sighed, lifting his own weapon. "Well, if you insist, let's go somewhere a bit more interesting, ne?"_

_The boy said nothing. He stood still for just a second longer. Then he charged, leading the wide open jaw of a gigantic, crystalline dragon directly toward the man. He just barely dodged the blade, and the frigid fangs sliced at his shoulder as he jumped to the left and took off in full sprint. _

"_Catch me if you can," he called playfully back._

_A scowl, and he was off, chasing after the man without even a backwards glance._

"_Taichou! What are you doing?!" called an all-too-familiar voice from behind him. _

_The boy did not answer. It was best if _she_ stayed behind. He had no idea where this man was taking him, and he did not want her by his side if he would only end up leading her into a trap._

* * *

Kouryuu hated when it was his sister's turn to cook. It wasn't necessarily the food he hated. Sure, he preferred Okkaa-san's cooking. But no matter how much he complained about it and insulted it, he really didn't mind his sister's either. What he hated was that, whenever it was Akane's turn to make dinner, she'd send _him_ to go get the ingredients.

She wrote it off as some sort of right of passage. She was the eldest, so she could order him to go shopping for her. Every time he refused, she'd pin him to the floor and administer noogie after noogie until he gave in. And so here he was, rubbing at his sore noggin and shopping for tomorrow night's dinner. He sifted through the bag, recounting Akane's requests one by one in his head. Alright then. Here he was, _just finished_ _with_ shopping for tomorrow night's dinner.

Glad to be done, he paid for his purchases and walked out of the store into the throngs of evening shoppers. Most of them were simply like shadows in the background of his vision. He tended to look at people in that way a lot. They were just there. They had nothing to do with him.

It would not be that way tonight.

"Taichou! What are you doing?!"

Kouryuu whirled around, eyes wide. He knew, for a reason he could not comprehend, that whoever it was, she was calling for him. He saw her immediately; she wasn't exactly one who blended in to a crowd. Long, wavy, maple-golden tresses; excited, pale blue eyes; and a _killer_ rack. Not to mention the gaudy, neon pink dress and matching high-heels that she was obviously not used to walking in. He could only stare as she ran ever closer to him and finally stopped, aforementioned assets not two inches from his face.

That was when she leaned down and pulled him into a back-breaking bear hug. "I can't believe it!" she shouted at the top of her lungs as he struggled for his life against her suffocating bosom. "You just disappeared! I didn't know what happened to you! I can't believe it! I can't believe I finally found you, Taichou! It's a miracle! Just what are you doing in a place like this?!"

Finally she released him, and he struggled to regain equilibrium. He backed away, his eyes never straying from her own: so blissful, so … expectant. It took him quite a while to find his voice, and even after he did he wasn't sure he should use it.

"You…" he began uncertainly, but soon indignation won out.

_"Who the hell are you?!"_

* * *

Chapter Two End

* * *


	4. Into the Hype

Finally giving you guys a break. The cliffhanger is now no more. And a whole bunch of secrets are revealed. Ta-da.

* * *

"_The only thing I'll ever ask of you  
You've got to promise not to stop when I say when"_

_Everlong, Foo Fighters_

* * *

**Chapter Three**

Into the Hype

* * *

"Who the hell are you?!"

Kouryuu stared as she seemed to tense, eyes wide. But it didn't last long. Before he could even blink, she was back to being a crazed and clearly confused woman with a voice that just didn't seem to quit.

"What?!" she whined playfully. "Don't say you forgot my name already, Taichou! That's so cruel! It's me! Matsumoto Rangiku! Your fukutaichou! I didn't think you hated me _that_ much!"

He took another step back. _If he had seen that figure before, he would have _definitely_ remembered it! _"Listen, ma'am, I don't know who you think I am, but I can assure I'm not him," the boy muttered from behind a grocery bag.

"Oh yeah?" She was smirking now. "Then why do you look exactly like him, sound exactly like him, and _blush_ exactly like him? Hm?"

"I … I'm not blushing! And I'm not taichou of anything!" he shot back, stuffing his face deeper into the recesses of the grocery bag. "So I'm obviously not the person you think I am."

"You're Hitsugaya Toushirou, taichou of the Tenth Division, and _my_ commanding officer!" she shouted in return. Now she was beginning to sound a little desperate. His frown deepened. _Hitsugaya Toushirou…?_

"Now I know you're mistaken. I've never heard that name before in my life!"

"Then tell me, oh-smart-one, how you got that scar across your eye!" Matsumoto countered, pointing at the faint, pink line that ran jaggedly down from his brow to his ear.

This time it was Kouryuu's turn to seize up. He hastily turned away, eyes narrowed as they stared determinedly at the ground. "Car accident."

The buxom woman's arm dropped limply to her side. "Ah, ah. I see. You're right," she mumbled under her breath in a measured monotone. "You just look so alike…. I was so sure…. But you're right. I was too hasty. I'm sorry."

Against his better judgment, he found his gaze rising back up to see her expression. The intensity of her stare hadn't lessened in the least, but the feeling of that intensity _had_ changed. It felt almost as if all of her excitement had been sucked out of her, like she had become some empty shell, just playing dead until she could escape. Like she was…? She bowed, her motions mechanic, before she began to walk away.

Kouryuu couldn't believe his eyes. She was just going to walk away? After all of that, she was just going to leave? It felt almost as if something erupted from inside his gut. He didn't know why, but he couldn't let her. He couldn't lose sight of her. Not again. _Never again._

"The hell?! You're just going to-?! You can't just harass people and then leave it at that!" he shouted.

She stopped and turned back, but the sad smile adorning her lips only made him more uncomfortable. "You're right again," she sighed. "I can't leave without knowing your name, right?"

That wasn't what he had meant at all, but that strange feeling in his stomach wouldn't leave him, and despite the ridiculousness of it all, his mouth spoke the words of its own accord. "Kouryuu. My name is Shimizu Kouryuu."

The woman turned her back to him once again and disappeared into the crowd.

"That's a nice name."

* * *

"So? Soooo?" persisted the familiar, nagging voice as its owner leaned forward excitedly from his position on a wooden bench. "How'd it go, my dear actress?"

Matsumoto Rangiku stepped listlessly to the bench before plopping down beside the man and sprawling herself out like a worn out dog. When she spoke, her voice remained monotonous. "He didn't respond to any of the key words, not even his own name. He said he'd never even heard the name before, and he wasn't lying."

"Well, we knew he wasn't going to bounce right back at a couple of choice words," the man countered, not the least bit troubled by his companion's obvious distress.

"It's more than that!" she suddenly exploded, grabbing her hair and yanking it in frustration. "He really didn't recognize me at all! He said he got the scar across his eye from a car crash! And even though the scar was there, he had two eyes! Both of his eyes were just fine! This isn't right! What the helldid Aizen _do_ to him?!"

"So, then, are you still sure it's him?"

Rangiku went limp once again, letting her fingers slide down past the edge of her golden lockes. "I'm sure," she repeated the mantra that had kept her going for so long. "I know it's him. There's no doubt."

"You know, this means that our plans will be much more difficult to pull off than we originally believed. Not only is he alive just as he would be as a reincarnation, but he has the memories of a reincarnation as well," the be-hatted man smirked knowingly.

"He said his name was … Kouryuu."

A single brow rose beneath the cover of his hat. "Now, isn't that something. It seems even Aizen has a sense of humor."

"'Kouryuu' can mean 'rain dragon,' and it can also mean 'hidden genius,' right…?" Matsumoto trailed off.

"That's right."

Her hands clenched into fists. "There's no way I'm going to let those bastards turn him into some sick joke! I don't care what it takes or how hard it'll be! I've told you all this before, dammit! I am his fukutaichou, and I will do _anything_ for my taichou! If you-!"

"Calm down," the man sighed, bonking her lightly on the head with the end of his cane. "You're making a scene."

"A scene? A scene?! I'll show you a scene!" she shrieked, grabbing the end of her companion's cane and yanking it out of his hands. She stood up on the bench, high heels forgotten on the ground, and brought the cane right down on his head. "I, Matsumoto Rangiku, hereby swear by the Soukyokuu that I'll do anything you damn well please if it'll get me my taichou back! Howzzat?!"

A Cheshire grin grew across the man's lips as he stood up and bent down to pick up the striped bucket hat that Rangiku had toppled clear off his head. "Oh dear," he sighed, brushing dirt off the fabric before placing it back atop unkempt, blonde hair.

"Then I guess I, Urahara Kisuke, had better get back to work."

"Damn straight!" Matsumoto huffed, jumping down from the bench. "Or I'll tell Yoruichi you've been slacking off!"

"Hey, now that's just cruel…" Urahara smirked in return. "Besides, Yoruichi is off on an important errand for me. She won't be back for a while."

"And what sort of errand would that be?"

Urahara turned to her for a moment, expression blank, before growing a large, mischievous grin. And, without saying a word, he walked off. She could only stare at his retreating back even as he began to hum, twirling his cane once more. He stopped, looking expectantly back at her. "Well, are you coming or not?"

She pouted indignantly, puffing her cheeks in frustration. She didn't know how much longer she could stand this. Urahara Kisuke: the man who had helped Kurosaki, the man Seireitei had exiled, the man who had invented and engineered the very gigai she was walking around in. He never told her anything about what he was planning, was always asking questions that made her doubt everything she believed to be true, and, worst of all, hadn't let her touch an ounce of alcohol since she had woken up. But he was the only man she could turn to for help. Urahara Kisuke: the only man in any of the worlds who knew that Matsumoto Rangiku was alive.

And he knew that because he was the man who had saved her life.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm coming," she pouted. "I told you, didn't I? I'll do _anything_ for my taichou."

"Indeed," he smirked. "That you did."

* * *

"You have to go see her again!"

"Why would I do that?! I don't ever want to see that insane woman again!"

Shimizu Akane glared when her younger brother dismissed her so fiercely. He had come out and told her the whole story only to say that? "Yeah? Well, I don't believe you!" she huffed before grabbing for the television remote.

"What is there not to believe?" he huffed right back as he shuffled through his homework. "She was insane. She mistook me for someone else and admitted herself that she was wrong. It's thanks to her that the eggs all cracked, running around and hugging strangers like an idiot. Why the hell would I want to see her again?"

"I _know_ you want to see her again. Why else would you volunteer to do the grocery shopping again tomorrow? You're too obvious, Shirou-chan. Really. It would be easier on you if you just admitted it," Akane smirked in triumph.

"My volunteering to shop for groceries has nothing to do with her. Okaa-san's been really busy lately. I'm just doing her a favor. It's not as if I have anything better to do."

Akane promptly raised the volume of the television. Kouryuu glared at her over his homework, and she raised the volume even higher. He tried ignoring the extra noise, but every time his gaze strayed back toward his sister, she'd smirk and raise the volume yet another notch. Any longer and the neighbors would be knocking on the door asking they were okay.

"Alright, fine!" he finally succumbed. "I thought that if I went shopping again tomorrow, I might see her again! Now shut that thing off before my eardrums explode!"

She couldn't resist flashing a victory sign before turning the television off and bouncing up next to him on the couch. "Sooo?" she beamed, nudging him playfully. "What makes you want to see the crazy lady again?"

"I told you I don't ever want to see her again," he grumbled, using his homework as a shield to separate them.

"I'll turn the TV back on," she threatened with a pout.

"I'm telling the truth, okay?!" Kouryuu hastily countered. "I don't want to see her again. But I thought that if I did, I might be able to ask her something."

"What?"

Kouryuu looked away, staring hard at the ground. "I don't know…."

"I don't get it," Akane cocked her head so that she could see his face. His expression was stern and steadfast. So much so that she could automatically tell he was trying to look that way on purpose. "Did she do something to you? Something you haven't told me?"

"No, nothing like that," he amended, narrowing his eyes. "It's just… The way she was looking at me, after I told her about the accident. It felt like she didn't believe me at all. Even though she said she had the wrong person, she didn't really believe it. It wasn't that she was upset because I wasn't who she was looking for. It was more like she was … scared. Like a deer caught in the headlights." He slumped down into the sanctuary of his homework. "_I'm_ the one who doesn't get it."

Akane sighed and offered a single pat on the head. And then she was right back to business. "Oh, yeah! I almost forgot! Nyoko called while you were out!"

"W-What?" Kouryuu shot straight up. "Nyoko-kun? Why-?"

"Don't call her Nyoko_-kun_," she interrupted, pinching him on the arm. "That's just rude!"

"I'll call her what I want!" he grunted, jerking his arm from out of her grasp. "Why did she call?"

Akane grinned mischievously. "She just said she wanted to talk to you about something. So I told her you two could meet up tomorrow after school! Tomorrow's the day when you buy flowers, right? She can go with you!"

"Baka-nee-san!" he shouted, tossing the nearest pillow in her face. "How can I take her with me for that?! You know I talk to-!"

"I think that's what she wants to talk to you about," she interrupted once again, catching the pillow with ease. "She sounded kinda worried, so I thought you could forgo chatting with dead people just long enough to hear one living person out."

Kouryuu paused in the middle of grabbing another pillow. He turned around, an anxious frown lining his lips. "She sounded … worried? About me?"

"Yup. So it would be best for you two to talk in person, ne? And after that, you can look for your crazy lady."

Grudgingly, he sat back down and retrieved his homework. "Fine. But you're still a jerk."

"And you're still a know-it-all. I guess we're even."

"I guess so."

And Shimizu Akane grinned at yet another victory.

* * *

Chapter Three End


	5. Ethereal

Another update for you. Finally some action and a few more familiar faces.

* * *

"_Dead, I fall asleep  
Is this all a dream?  
Wake me up, I'm living a nightmare"_

_Time of Dying, __Three Days Grace_

* * *

**Chapter Four**

Ethereal

* * *

Shimizu Kouryuu walked slowly down the crowded sidewalk, hands in his pockets and eyes on the ground. He didn't pay attention to any of the surrounding shops nor the cars, mopeds, and bicycles out in the street. He'd never liked the noises of the city. He preferred to be somewhere up high and away from it all, but he'd gotten used to it since he'd moved here and had learned to tune it out. 

His steps seemed aimless for the longest time, as if he hadn't the slightest clue where he wanted to go or perhaps was just wasting time. But finally he turned a corner and approached an old florist's shop. Standing out front was none other than Suzuki Nyoko.

"Good afternoon, Kouryuu-kun," she smiled brightly.

He nodded a bit awkwardly, hands still deep in his pockets. It was strange, meeting Nyoko outside of school like this. Not a bad strange, just … strange. Unlike him, however, she seemed unperturbed. She waited patiently as he chose a flower, another daffodil, and they left the store together. She didn't try talking again until they were almost to the cemetery.

"The flower is for your … parents?" she ventured hesitantly. He nodded again, and she seemed almost exasperated. "Why only one?"

"I didn't buy it so that I could dump it on their graves," he huffed. But when he realized what he'd said, he shrunk back again. "…It's for something else."

Despite the gruff and secretive nature of the statement, it did cheer her up. At least now he was talking. "Ah. Well … um … actually, I wanted to talk to you about something."

"I kind of figured."

Nyoko smiled sheepishly, then turned away. "Well … um … I pass the cemetery on my way home from photography club, and … um … I see you there a lot." She was trying and failing to sound casual. Really, it just made him feel even more awkward. "I've heard stories about what happened. I don't know the real story and I won't ask, but … er … I just wanted to let you know, well, I lost my mom a while back, so I kind of know how it feels, and, um, if you ever want to talk to someone about it, you don't always have to go to the cemetery alone."

Kouryuu blinked stupidly. She had started to speak faster and faster the further she went until he almost couldn't understand her at all. And now she was staring resolutely at the ground, her face quickly taking on a bright red hue. She must have felt his eyes on her because she looked back up, but he made sure to look away before she could catch him. "I … didn't know you're mom had died. Sorry."

"N-No!" she stuttered, frantically waving away his concern with frantic hands. "It's okay! Really! It was a while ago, and Dad's always trying so hard to do everything right for me."

"Like Nee-san?"

"Yes!" she beamed. "Just like Akane-san! And I'm sure her parents are trying their best too."

Still smiling, she reached out to hold his hand. It was not uncomfortable. In fact, Kouryuu rather enjoyed it. The uneasiness, the awkwardness, they all seemed to dissipate with that smile. And what she said actually made him feel better. He felt the need to smile right back, to let her know that this was just the sort of thing he had seen in her since his first day at Mashiba Junior High, the reason that he put up with Miki and Takeshi every day. After another moment of silence, he finally resolved to look up.

"Nyoko-kun, I-"

And he stopped dead.

"Kouryuu-kun? Kouryuu-kun, what are you looking at? Kouryuu-kun?"

But he didn't answer. He hadn't even heard. He could only stare right over her head at the large, grotesque black and white monstrosity looming over them, an aura of bloodlust overcoming his entire body. It was like a twisted, deformed cross between an elephant and a tree, bulky limps braiding outward until they ended in three, whip-like branching fingers. There were no longer any cars, any people. There was nothing in his world but the monster, Nyoko, and himself.

No. No, that was wrong. She didn't belong there. This wasn't her world. _It wasn't his either_, his mind protested. But he still wasn't listening.

He pulled her close by the wrist, and when he had both hands firmly on her back, he shoved with all his might. She stumbled forward in surprise. "Run!" he shouted.

"Kouryuu-kun, stop-!"

The gnarled limb met its mark. It swung with all the force of a cannonball directly into his gut. He heard something that sounded distinctly like ribs cracking, tasted the foul blood cascade into his mouth, and then rammed right into a brick wall. Another crack followed by a disturbing snap as his neck whiplashed and the back of his head slammed against the wall. A flash of light. Then darkness.

* * *

His eyes slowly flickered open. Everything was blurry, and he swore there was something in his throat clogging his windpipe. He didn't know where he was or why he was on the ground, but he wasn't about to find out if he kept lying around. He pulled himself unsteadily to his feet, surprised when the action led to an unexpected, metallic noise. He looked down. 

There was a chain coming out of his chest. He had hardly even grasped this concept when he saw what was on the other side of the chain. Nyoko was crying, screaming for help as she cradled something in her arms. She was cradling _him_.

Only she wasn't him. He was here. What the hell was going on? Oh, right. His eyes widened as the monster aimed for Nyoko next. He looked frantically for something, anything, to stop it. But there was nothing. So he used the only thing he had. He bolted forward and plowed into the back of the creature's knee. It lost balance, but only enough to distract it from Nyoko and sets its mind on a new target. Him.

Its eyes seemed to glow in anger from behind the mask, and before Kouryuu could realize what had happened, the deformed limbs were upon him again. Adrenaline was the only thing that kept him from falling flat on his face when he rolled out of the way. But just as he'd gotten to his feet again, he was yanked right back down to the ground. Around his wrist was wrapped one of the branchlike tentacles.

_Oh, crap._

He flew into the air, knowing his wrist must have popped right out of its joint, and then he met concrete. He wasn't even aware of being picked up again, but when he vision settled he was back in the air, staring down at a still frantic Nyoko. Couldn't she see what was happening? Why wouldn't she run away? Oh … that was right. The chain, Nyoko crying, a second him, lying motionless.

So this was what it was like to die…? None of the spirits he had ever talked to had mentioned anything like this. He could feel hot breath against his skin. That would be a mouth, he realized dazedly. So he was going to be eaten by a nonexistent monster. What a stupid way to go.

**_HOW DARE YOU…_**

Kouryuu's eyes went wide. What had that been?!

"Oi, Ugly! Behind you!"

A huge blade then proceeded to cut through the monster's mask like so much marshmallow, slicing it cleanly in two. Unfortunately for Kouryuu, after the mask disintegrated, the rest of the monster did too, including the whip-finger that had been holding him up. He fell, and landed right on top of something very hard and very orange.

"Gah! Jeez! Since when did you souls start to get so heavy?!"

Kouryuu could only manage a half-hearted grunt as he half-rolled, half-stumbled off of the orange lump. His whole being ached like mad; he was sure at least half of his body was bent the wrong way. Well, maybe not body… He wasn't in his body right now, was he? Ugh. It hurt his head just to think about it.

He tried to get away, but an arm shot out from behind him and held him fast by his shoulder. "Calm down, kid," the orange lump demanded, his voice urgent. So Kouryuu probably looked as beaten up as he felt then. That was going to make things difficult. "I said calm down," he repeated when the boy did nothing of the sort. "You're not dead, and your girlfriend isn't about to die in the next minute either, okay? Rukia will be here in no time. She can put you back in your body, heal you up, and you two can be back on your merry way in no time. Alright? Just trust me."

Kouryuu did not trust him at all. It may have been true that he'd saved them from that monster, but that only meant he was even more dangerous. "Eh? White hair? That's pretty rare." The hand on his shoulder began to turn him around. He struggled, but the orange lump was clearly the stronger of the two. Plus, he hadn't just been slammed into the ground by a living, breathing tree branch, had he? "Kinda reminds me of another brat I used to kn-"

He met the orange lump face to face and saw his supposed savior for the first time. It was actually a bit of a disappointment; he looked like some high school cosplayer. But when his eyes widened in disbelief and his jaw dropped nearly to the floor, Kouryuu decided he'd had enough. This stranger was bigger and stronger than him, not to mention he was carrying a friggin' cleaver. Kouryuu finally resorted to the utmost taboo. He bent his knee, slammed it up into the orange-top's family jewels, and ran like hell.

* * *

"Ichigo!" 

The redheaded substitute shinigami looked up between tears at the sound of the voice. Any other time, he would have simply huffed a "better late than never," but not this time. Oh, no. That had _hurt_! Who knew the brat could kick so damn hard!

Rukia ran around the corner, followed by a jumpy Kon. They had been eating out at a little takoyaki place, but Ichigo had run off without a word and left her to pay for it. She wasn't exactly in the best of moods either. And so when she saw Ichigo on the ground, she couldn't afford not to shove it in his face. "Ohoho!" she laughed, putting on a well practiced air of superiority. "What happened, Ichigo? Did you actually let some pathetic, little hollow beat you up?"

"Not the hollow," he grunted through clenched teeth. Rukia frowned. What did that mean? Who else could have done it? There was no one here.

"What happened there?" Both Rukia and Ichigo turned at Kon's inquisitive tone as he pointed at the brick wall with his foot. In a small cross-section between four bricks, the mortar had cracked and the bricks had actually been displaced. Blood splattered ominously up from that point, red on red. But the owner of that blood and his little girlfriend were gone. All that was left was some dying flower lying trampled into the sidewalk.

"The hollow was attacking someone? And you let him get away? Ichigo, we have to use the kikanshinki!"

"Rukia!" She stopped, and with a painful wince, he pulled himself back to his feet. "Get Kon out of there. I need my body. I've got to go talk some sense into that girl before she lets him kill himself again."

"_Again?_" Rukia screwed up the bridge of her nose in confusion. "Who?"

Ichigo didn't answer. With one last indignant huff at the nerve of that little brat, he set Zangetsu back in its place at his back. Heh. That was where he used to have his zanpakutou too. He frowned. Surprises like this were never good.

But Rukia seemed to understand his urgency, and he was back in his body in no time. Kon, back in plushy form, clung to Rukia's shoulder. "So … this girl… Was she hot?"

The tension exploded and before either of them really realized what they were doing, Kon was on the ground in a stuffing heap. They looked at each other awkwardly. Neither remembered being the one to hit him. But at the very least, Kon's comment seemed to have brought them both back to their senses.

"Ichigo…" the shinigami trailed off, violet eyes betraying her concern. "What happened? Who could have attacked you?"

He was suddenly overwhelmed with thanks that she hadn't realized just _where_ he'd been attacked. "A whole lot of stuff that didn't make any sense. That's what happened," he grunted. He wasn't looking at her anymore, already walking away. "What other shrimp could possibly get that injured and still be able to run off?"

Just what exactly was Ichigo implying? "What the hell is that supposed to mean?!" she shouted back frustratedly, running after him with a wobbly Kon on her heels.

He stopped, and she nearly ran into his back. "I swear…" he muttered under his breath, his shaky voice giving away his anxiety. "I swear it was Toushirou."

* * *

Chapter Four End

* * *

**kikanshinki** – shinigami memory replacement device 


	6. Backlash

I'm sorry it took so long to update this. There's been a lot going on lately, what with my graduation just around the corner, but on top of that something went very wrong right smack dab in the middle of it all. So even though I've had this chapter over half way done for at least a week now, I've only just had time to sit down and finish it.

I hope it's worth the wait.

* * *

__

_"She said, 'just go on to what you  
Pretend is your life but  
Please don't die on me'"_

_Ready to Fall, Rise Against_

* * *

**Chapter Five**

Backlash

* * *

Kouryuu didn't know how long he'd been running. He only knew that his feet hurt, and his legs hurt, and his arms hurt, and his stomach hurt, and his neck hurt, and his head hurt, and everything just hurt. Somewhere in the back of his mind, something was telling him that this was obviously to be expected and that anything less after being slammed into a brick wall and then the cement respectively would be downright impossible, but that part of his mind was currently being overpowered by all of the hurt.

Damn, it _really_ hurt!

The only thing keeping him going now was adrenaline. The moment that ran out, he'd be nothing more than mush on the pavement. As he just barely made out a street through his blurred vision, he turned the corner, looking back to see Nyoko follow him around the bend. Of course, she followed him. He had her by the wrist. But the sight of her wet, puffy eyes gave his strained body the push it needed to run another block.

"Kouryuu-kun!" she cried for the umpteenth time. "Kouryuu-kun! What's going on? What happened to you? You're bleeding! Just stop! We're far enough already! Just stop, Kouryuu-kun!"

Like hell they were far enough! Nyoko-kun didn't know; she couldn't see it. That monster … and the orange-haired guy with the giant cleaver. They were straight out of a horror thriller for goodness' sake! No. He could never run far enough away from that.

And that was when the world decided to prove him wrong. Half way down an empty alleyway, Nyoko-kun tripped over her own two feet. He hadn't comprehended just how bad his condition was until he felt her weight on his back. It felt like he'd just been hit by a car. He couldn't hold her, and he crumpled beneath her, eyes wide in shock and lungs heaving for air that just wouldn't come.

Ahead of them, he could see an incoming bob of orange amongst the gray and black blurs. No. He struggled to pull himself back up, he had to get away, but something stopped him.

He looked up in disbelief as Nyoko reached around his shaky arms pulled him tightly to her chest. He pulled against her, but she only held him tighter, his chin knocking painfully against her shoulder as the bob of orange came closer and closer. She had tripped on purpose, he realized in his frenzy. This was all on purpose! She was going to get them both killed!

"Ny-!"

"Shh!" she hastily interrupted, her voice almost as frantic and hoarse as his own as she continued to hold him close despite all of his efforts to escape. "Please, Kouryuu! Please, don't say anything!"

And so he didn't. He only watched numbly as the high school kid and someone behind him finally caught up to them, body going limp when he realized there was nothing he could do. He could feel something prying him away from her as she carefully, reluctantly let go, and the last thing he saw before he finally lost consciousness was Nyoko-kun's tear stained face.

* * *

"Rukia, I swear! It was him! It couldn't have been anyone else!"

"It doesn't work that way, Ichigo! How many times do I have to tell you? The dead don't come back to life!"

"Well, then he either wasn't dead or he isn't alive," the frustrated redhead grunted, reaching his limit with his raven haired companion. But Rukia wasn't about to falter. If anything was true in this world, this was it. It was simply impossible.

"That makes even less sense," she scolded him, also getting frustrated despite herself. It was just like Ichigo to take off the moment he got such a ridiculous idea into his head.

"Then you'll just have to see for yourself!"

The shinigami snorted at his characteristic stubbornness. She had already known there was nothing she could do to change his mind. Why she even tried was a mystery she may never solve. She would just have to prove it to him. When they found this look-a-like, it would be obvious to the high school delinquent that it could not be the same person as the former Tenth Division captain.

Hitsugaya Toushirou was dead.

Before the topic could be discussed any further, Ichigo seemed to catch on to something, his brows furrowing as he increased his pace and raced ahead. Rukia pouted and followed right after him, Kon hitching a ride on her shoulder. But just as she caught up with him, Ichigo stopped, and she nearly ran into him. There in front of them was a girl tightly clutching a frantic boy in her arms. Neither could have been older than thirteen. Rukia gasped, and the noise only seemed to fuel Ichigo all the more.

The boy looked _exactly_ like him.

It was simply impossible.

"I didn't know what else to do!" the girl was wailing as Rukia slowly approached. Ichigo was crouched down in front of her, listening intently. "I just knew he couldn't keep running or else he'd never stop!" Ichigo offered the girl his arms and began prying the boy out of her hysteric grip. He was dazed, gravely injured, and losing consciousness, if he hadn't lost it already. Rukia still couldn't believe it. "I don't know who you are, but you have to help him! You just have to! I can't, so you have to!"

The substitute shinigami laid the boy out on the sidewalk, and Rukia quickly understood. In his condition, he wouldn't even make it to the clinic. She'd have to seal the worst of his wounds right here. As she dropped down beside him and began, Ichigo turned back to the girl and patted her on the head. "Don't worry. We're the good guys; we just want to help. Rukia knows what she's doing. We'll have your boyfriend fixed up in no time."

The beet-red blush that overwhelmed her features was hard to miss. "B-boyfriend?" she stuttered before hastily amending herself. "Y-yes! Yes! So you have to help him no matter what! You have to help him for me!"

"Aha! Liar!" cried a voice before a small, stuffed lion jumped out from behind Rukia. The girl, even after all of her screaming and crying, was struck dumb at the sight. "Why would Toushirou choose you when he's got his goddess of a lieutenant and her two beau-" Rukia promptly pounded it into the ground.

"Ignore him," she grunted as if talking stuffed animals were an everyday occurrence. "Ichigo, I took care of the head wound. He should be able to make it now. We can't afford to stay here any longer or we may be seen."

"Right," Ichigo nodded, the epitome of seriousness as he bent down to pick up the boy, cradling him bridal style.

Rukia had sealed his head wound first, the obvious choice, but even without the blatant injury and the dried blood dyeing his hair a deep, dark red, she could barely stand to see him this way. This boy couldn't be Hitsugaya-taichou; he couldn't. But they looked so alike that the sight brought shivers down her spine. Hitsugaya-taichou should never have looked so vulnerable.

When the girl stood up to follow, she forced the thought from her mind and pulled out her kikanshinki. "Oi, girl. I'm sure you have a lot of questions, ne? Just look over here and-"

"I've seen MIB," the girl suddenly piped up, shielding her eyes. "I'm not looking at that thing."

A small smile twitched at the edges of Ichigo's lips when he saw Rukia's dumbfounded expression. "MIB…?"

"C'mon, Rukia," he shook his head, not bothering to explain. "Not today. Just this once."

"What are you talking about? This is standard procedure. If I don't, then-"

"What about any of this is standard?" he snorted, still supporting the Hitsugaya look-a-like in his arms. "Besides, she's his girlfriend, right? Maybe she can tell us what's going on."

At the girl's vigorous nodding, Rukia sighed and finally replaced the memory-erasing device within her Chappie backpack. "Just this once," she consented grudgingly. "But if anything happens later… It doesn't matter. For now let's get him to the clinic."

"Um… if we're going somewhere else now, you should probably call his house. If he doesn't come home, Akane-san will start a killing spree until she finds him."

"Well, would you look at that. She's already helping out," Ichigo smirked. "Apparently, Toushirou here has found himself a family."

"She could have told us that even if we had erased her memory," Rukia countered.

"Aha!" the girl pointed at the Thirteenth Division shinigami accusingly. "I knew it!"

Ichigo's smirk cracked itself just a bit wider; Rukia was stumped again. Apparently, she still had a lot to learn about the living world, even after all this time. And while she watched Ichigo talking to that amazing, little girl who was still following them even after watching Rukia heal her friend within minutes before squashing a talking stuffed animal, she couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit of hope begin to swell within her gut. It was impossible, but he really did look exactly like Hitsugaya-taichou. Even if they weren't the same person, maybe they were connected.

Could she really begin to hope that the fallen taichou would rise again?

"So what's your name, kid?" Ichigo asked.

"Nyoko," she said after a moment. "And I wish you'd stop calling him Toushirou. You must've made a mistake. His name is Kouryuu."

Rukia paused, disbelieving shock embracing her features for only a moment before she forced it aside and caught up with the other two. _Kouryuu … huh?_

Maybe, just maybe, it wasn't so impossible after all.

* * *

_Blood. Everywhere there was blood. And darkness. That was the worst part. The darkness._

_Never before had the dark hurt so much._

_But that was when he saw it. Out of the corner of his blurred peripheral vision, he could see something that wasn't dark. It was a very, very different color, a color that he knew all too well. A familiar shade of pink; to be specific, a pink scarf. One that was also covered in blood._

_It took several seconds for his battered mind to comprehend this, but when it did, all of the darkness immediately faded away. A world of light met him once again, and he knew that under no circumstances could he afford to leave it. He still had a job to do, and he would do it. He had to._

_Matsumoto was counting on him._

_It still hurt. Everything still hurt, but he had to get up. If he stayed here … he may _never_ get up._

_Reaching out his hand with every last bit of his meager energy, he pushed against the sticky, blood-stained earth and tried to pull himself up. A taichou's place was not on the ground, dammit. But he knew right away that the weight he was trying to lift was a great deal heavier than his own. Matsumoto was on top of him. Her added weight pinned him down as he realized he just didn't have the power to save them both. He didn't even have the power to save her._

_They were going to die here._

_And it was all his fault._

_Something came down on his outstretched arm. Hard. It hurt like hell and he was sure it was broken, but he didn't have the voice to cry out any more. The most he could do was raise his head the slightest fraction, his unfocused eyes landing on first the sandal which had found its home atop his arm, then the white uniform that signified everything he hated, and finally the gentle smile that killed him every time he laid his eyes on it._

"_And here I thought you had learned your lesson."_

_Aizen Sousuke looked down on him, no where near the innocent, trustworthy man he had once thought him to be. The smile twisted into an almost fatherly smirk. It was revolting._

"_Challenge me once, and I spare you. Challenge me twice, and you're simply not worth sparing," the man scolded lightly. He stared defiantly back, unwilling to give Aizen even the slightest satisfaction of his own will. But, apparently, this was exactly what the cruel mastermind wanted. He couldn't comprehend it as he was. He only knew that something was very, very wrong. "But even the unworthy can be used, isn't that right, Gin?"_

_Ichimaru Gin grinned widely, his form illuminated by the glinting of his blood-stained blade. Blood, he realized, that was still leaking out of his mutilated body. Blood, he knew, that also belonged to the woman above him, who had given herself up only to have him fail her yet again. "O'course, Aizen," he replied easily, playing with his superior's name by elongating the first syllable. "Whatcha plannin' on usin' the little taichou for? Sure, he's cute, but he's still a brat, ya know?"_

"_Well, he always has been considered a prodigy. Perhaps he can help us with a little question I've wanted answered for some time now." At this, he crouched down, peering steely into his prey's blank, green orbs. "After all, he's proven to be a great deal of help to us already," he smirked knowingly. "Haven't you, Hitsugaya-kun?"_

_The consciousness he had been trying so desperately to cling to for so long was now quickly beginning to fade, and the last thing he saw before he finally couldn't hold on any longer was Matsumoto's pale, listless body as he was dragged out from under it._

* * *

Chapter Five End


	7. Death to Conservatism

I'd apologize for getting this out so late, but you're all probably sick and tired of hearing my apologies by now, so I'll just get straight to the story instead.

* * *

"_And do you ever feel like you're alone?  
And do you ever wish you'd be unknown?"_

_Everything's Magic, Angels and Airwaves_

* * *

**Chapter Six**

Death to Conservatism

* * *

She could feel a cool breeze, driving through the very core of her being. It chilled her to the bones, making her shiver in her sleep. But before she could even comprehend why, it had vanished, and the chill that had reminded her again and again that she was still alive faded into nothing.

With a start, Matsumoto Rangiku shot up out of her futon, eyes turning frantically left and right only to see the same old basement in the same old Urahara Shoten. But… She had been so sure…. She had felt it, just like that time…. It was definitely him; there was no doubt about it. So why…? Slowly, mechanically, the buxom shinigami turned her eyes to the corner of the basement room, where two Japanese swords were leaning against the wall. One of them was glowing a brilliant blue.

"Déjà vu…" she sighed heavily, almost not believing her eyes. First, that familiar feeling, and now… "What are you trying to tell me?" she asked, still staring down the sheathed weapons. "Was that you, or … Taichou?"

Hyourinmaru did not answer her. He never had.

* * *

"Ah," Rukia stood up when Suzuki Nyoko returned to the small clinic room. "You called his sister then?"

The girl nearly jumped right out of her skin, not expecting to see her friend's female savior in the room. Considering what she had just seen Rukia do, the Thirteenth Division shinigami felt she had every right to be a bit jumpy. "Y-yes!" she affirmed with a hesitant nod. "Luckily, I caught their house just in time. She was about to kidnap Miki-kun and Takeshi-kun and start a search party while her parents talked with the police. I told her that he was clipped by a car like you said, and I told her he wasn't hurt badly. She'll be here as soon as she looks up the directions."

Rukia frowned. It was strange, hearing about this boy's family when Hitsugaya-taichou's was so different. She kept having to remind herself that they weren't the same person, even though she'd been the one to insist on that in the first place. "Only his sister? What about his parents?"

"Well…" Nyoko trailed, appearing strangely sheepish. "Her parents were already on the way to the police station, so she said she'd come herself. She probably told them she found him, but… She usually feels responsible for Kouryuu-kun because … um … technically, she's the one who adopted him."

For a moment, the violet eyed shinigami didn't know what to say. Then: "Is that even legal?"

"Is what legal?"

Nyoko jumped again, whirling around to face the person who had just walked up behind her. "Are _you_ legal?" she pouted in return, glaring up into the surprised eyes of one Kurosaki Ichigo.

Ichigo looked thoroughly stumped, and Rukia couldn't help but garner a small amount of satisfaction now that Ichigo was the clueless one. She, on the other hand, knew exactly what the girl was driving at. It had been what had caught Rukia off guard in the first place. Nyoko had reacted a little too calmly under the circumstances. She'd entrusted Kouryuu to two complete strangers, hadn't said anything about seeing Rukia heal the boy or Kon yapping off in stuffed animal form, and had even followed them to an unknown location. She was either completely naïve and ignorant, or she had been waiting for just the right moment to bring it up.

"If you have something to say, say it," Rukia huffed, folding her hands across her chest accusingly. "You've been holding in all of your questions, right? You must have several. Ichigo dragged me down this far already, so we'll answer as many as we can as long as you understand that you won't like any of the answers."

Ichigo frowned, looking down at the girl as she nervously bit her lips. He didn't move from the doorway; Rukia doubted he would until the inevitable conversation was through. It was just the way he worked, subconsciously guarding the entrance and the precious bounty it led to. Rukia knew he wouldn't force anything out of the girl and neither would she, so it was all up to Nyoko whether she wanted to be involved or not.

"You…" She looked from Rukia to Ichigo then to the boy resting upon the bed before her soft lips finally lost their edge and donned a full, determined pout. "You were running at us like you already knew he was hurt even before you saw us! Then all of the things that happened… You already knew he was hurt, so you must know what hurt him! He was fine, he really was, but then he just pushed me away and started yelling and the next thing I knew… I … I really thought he was…" She had started speaking at lightning speeds, but now she slowed, doing everything in her power to keep her tears in check. "B-But then he just got up again and started running. He wouldn't tell me anything, just that he had to get away no matter what. I had to ask you for help! You were the only ones there! But… You have to tell me."

Her dark eyes flashed for just a second before she concluded, her tone black, "What hurt Kouryuu-kun? And why do you know about it?"

Ichigo sighed, raising his hand to scratch the back of his neck. Rukia could understand. They let her rant, draining away the emotional element before they gave their equally crippling answers. When the girl had finished, however, Rukia found herself at a loss. No "where did you get magic healing powers?" No "what the hell was that stuffed animal thing?" This girl really knew how to get to the heart of the matter.

"I already told you. We're the good guys," Ichigo came to her rescue. "The thing that hurt your boyfriend is a monster that normal people can't see. It kinda-sorta killed him, but not really, so he tried to fight it off as a ghost. I defeated it, your boyfriend oh-so-gratefully knocked me over, and then he jumped back into his body, grabbed you, and ran."

"That, of course, is the condensed version," Rukia prompted, just a little grumpy at having been upstaged.

Nyoko digested this information for several seconds before her eyes widened to the size of dinner plates and her jaw plummeted clear to the ground. "Th-Then…! Miki-kun was really…?! Kouryuu-kun can see _ghosts_?!"

"Wait, he can _what_?"

Rukia had not moved two steps from her seat when the clinic door burst open and a veritable hurricane rushed through the entrance. "Where is he?!" the hurricane shouted, voice deafening. "If I don't see him alive and well on the count of five, I'm going to start busting heads! One!"

"I take it that's the sister," Ichigo grunted, fingers planted firmly in his ears.

"Two!"

"Akane-san!" the girl shouted, her voice trailing behind her as she ran out the door. "Calm down! He's okay! Please, just follow me."

Rukia and Ichigo exchanged confused, wary glances as earth-shattering stomps made their way closer and closer to the room until finally the hurricane burst through the door. A young woman, only a year or so older than Ichigo, long, brown hair flying behind her, barged in, Nyoko's grip on her arm doing nothing to hold her back.

"See?" the young girl clarified, her voice halting as she tried to catch her breath. "He's fine! Nothing to worry about!"

Silence reigned for a whole five seconds, and for that mercilessly short amount of time, Ichigo and Rukia thought they had been saved from the wrath of the hurricane. Unfortunately, that wouldn't be the case. "Ah, I see," Shimizu Akane replied, her voice quiet and cold. She walked toward the bed, watching Kouryuu shift in his sleep. "Just a few scratches. There's nothing for me to worry about at all. He's perfectly fine."

And that was when she lifted her fist into the air and bashed it right into the center of Kouryuu's forehead. "If there's nothing to worry about, then why the hell did you make me worry, huh?! I'll give you something to worry about, you little-!"

"Akane-saaaan!" Nyoko cried, wrapping her arms around Akane's waste while Ichigo and Rukia held her back by her arms. "He's hurt! You can't do that!"

"He's fine, isn't he?! Just like you said!" Akane growled back, struggling with all of her might. "Besides, I was just waking him up! The real beating won't happen 'til he can fight back! Then I'll be able to unleash my ultimate punishment without hesitation!"

"Che. Shut up, will you? I'm trying to sleep. So annoying…"

Everyone paused in their struggles, looking down at the form in the bed as he grunted in irritation and turned to lay so that his back was facing them. Turning their gazes from Kouryuu to each other, a mutual understanding was born between them, and the restraints that had held the hurricane at bay were released without remorse.

* * *

"You know, normal people just say, 'Wake up.' They don't try to murder you every morning," Shimizu Kouryuu grumbled accusingly as he nursed a swollen cheek.

"It's your fault. If I tried anything short of wrestling you out of bed, you'd stay there forever," returned the equally shameless Shimizu Akane.

"Maybe if you didn't wake me up like that, I wouldn't mind getting up on time."

"Maybe if you didn't mind getting up on time, I wouldn't have to wake you up like that."

Ichigo swore he could see electricity darting across the room as the two siblings continued their back-and-forth game of frustrated arguments. It was a little confusing, if he was going to be honest. The two of them had really duked it out before Kouryuu finally called Uncle, and ever since then they'd just been sitting there insulting each other. Well, actually, the confusing part was that they hadn't started arguing until after Nyoko introduced Rukia and himself. For a second, Kouryuu had almost looked scared, but then he just turned around and started arguing with Akane as if nothing was wrong. Then again…

"Nyoko, is this normal for them?" Rukia asked softly, echoing Ichigo's thoughts to a T.

The young girl huddled into herself as she let loose a concerned sigh. "I still don't get who you people are, but Kouryuu-kun really, really doesn't like you."

"I never would have guessed…" Ichigo drawled, pressing his legs closer together in a casual motion he hoped no one else noticed.

"Then leave."

Ichigo's eyes widened, and he whirled around to face Kouryuu, no longer arguing but instead glaring intently at him. Damn, that brat had good ears. "It's my family's clinic," he replied, glaring right back. "You leave."

"Okay."

"Gah! I didn't mean it!" the redheaded substitute shinigami hastily amended, grabbing Kouryuu's arm before he could go. "We can't just let a patient walk out the door! Plus, you're-!"

"I'm what?"

Rukia had heard enough. If this kid was really related to Hitsugaya-taichou in some way, then they'd never get his attention by forcing him to do anything, especially not with his friends and family in the room. There was only one way to get him to cooperate, but the raven haired girl saw no real problem with revealing anything at this point. Thus it was that as Ichigo and Kouryuu struggled at the exit, Kuchiki Rukia pulled out a very familiar pez-like candy dispenser and popped its contents into her mouth.

Immediately her soul disconnected with her gigai, and immediately Kouryuu froze in place.

"Still want to leave?" she asked. The Hitsugaya look-alike didn't respond, his eye traveling conspicuously from the Rukia smiling stupidly in her little, white dress to the Rukia frowning seriously and holding a sharp, deadly sword. Well, that answered one of her questions anyway. He could definitely see ghosts, and if what Nyoko had said was any indication, he had been able to do so long before he'd ever met them. "You want answers from us, and we want answers from you. What do you say we make it an even trade?"

"Kouryuu… What are you staring at?"

Only then did the boy snap out of his trance, eyes widening as he turned to Akane. "N-Nee-san…" Ichigo could tell by the look on the girl's face that Kouryuu stuttering was just as out of place as if Toushirou himself had done it. "Tell everyone that I'm fine, but I'm staying the night, just in case. You can give them the address or phone number if you want, but no visitors."

"You can't be serious!" Akane protested, obviously shocked with his sudden change of heart.

"Just this once. Please, listen to me. I'll even do all of the grocery shopping for the rest of the month."

Neither Rukia nor Ichigo quite understood what happened then. The two siblings' eyes met, and then it was as if the hurricane had suddenly been replaced by a calm, summer breeze. "Alright then," she sighed. "Just this once. If Mom and Dad get mad at me, you're going to be the one hurting for it later."

"Yeah, yeah," he huffed with a snort.

"Nyoko-chan, don't let him out of your sight. If he does anything stupid, give me a call," the high school girl grunted, sticking her tongue out at her brother as she walked out the door. "So there. I have an informant. Behave, Shoutei-chan!"

"Baka-nee-san…" the boy grumbled under his breath before turning his back on the exit and glaring at the two people before him. Rukia had taken the chance to return to her gigai while the brother and sister were talking, and Nyoko had stepped up and stood her ground right behind her little boyfriend. She didn't understand what was happening, but she knew that she wouldn't learn anything by running away. "Alright," Kouryuu continued, none-too-happily. "Start talking and maybe I'll just aim for your shins this time. How's that for a fair trade?"

Ichigo and Rukia turned to each other and nodded knowingly.

"The best place to discuss something like this is definitely…" Rukia began, and Ichigo nodded grimly.

"Urahara Shoten."

* * *

Chapter Six End


	8. Salt on Open Wounds

This one was very difficult to write. I apologize to Stark fans everywhere.

* * *

"_I feel I've come to realize  
How fast life can be compromised  
Step back to see what's going on  
I can't believe this happened to you"_

_Hell Song, Sum41_

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

Salt on Open Wounds

* * *

It wasn't until they were filing into the unassuming sweets shop that Kouryuu finally realized just how far into this nonsense he'd already fallen. Nyoko had told him about what had happened after he blacked out as they walked, about the black-haired girl healing him and how they insisted they were the "good guys." That high school delinquent, Kurosaki something-or-other, seemed ready enough to back up her story, trying to convince him that they were here to help and that this Urahara person would know how to go about doing it.

But even so, all of this talk about dying, coming back to life, and magically healing people while battling living stuffed animals was nothing compared to stepping into Urahara Shoten and seeing the large, muscular man wearing a frilly apron at the counter.

"Just kill me now," he groaned, ready to walk right back out the door.

"I thought that was what we wanted to avoid," the raven haired girl retorted dryly.

But no one was listening to either of them. The apron-clad shop keeper had stepped out from behind the counter when he saw them enter, his big, black mustache twitching in a particularly disturbing way as his glasses glinted dangerously. With just a nod and a strangely dignified exit, he disappeared into the house beyond.

"Tell me that wasn't this Urahara guy."

"He wasn't," Kurosaki clarified with a derisive smirk. "Urahara's worse."

"Why am I here again?"

"Because I saved your ass from a giant monster."

"Such eloquent vocabulary. You really are a delinquent, aren't you?"

"Oh, shut up. Both of you," Kuchiki huffed, reaching up to bonk Ichigo on the back of his head.

"Now, now. There's no need for violence here," chimed an overly-cheery voice, and Urahara Kisuke made his grand entrance into the shop. He eyed Kouryuu for a second before his grin took a decidedly sinister turn, and he swooped toward him like a hawk, winking obnoxiously in his face. "Oh, dear. Are you alright? Are these two idiots harassing you and your friend?"

A pale brow rose as Kouryuu leaned back and away from the prying man before he turned a wry smirk on Kurosaki's very noticeable scowl. "Actually…"

Kurosaki ignored him in favor of Urahara himself. "Why am I not surprised that you're not surprised?"

"Learning, are you?" the blond man cooed, standing straight once more. He readjusted the odd, green striped bucket hat atop his head, then pointed conspicuously at Kouryuu. "So tell me what nonsense was going through your head when you decided to bring him here, let alone the girl?"

"Why bother asking when you already know the answer?" Kuchiki replied without missing a beat, tapping her foot impatiently on the floor. She dealt with Urahara far too often to be put off by his antics any longer. "We found him; a hollow got to him. Not only that but you obviously know enough about him, seeing as you haven't asked a single, relevant question. I'd be more surprised if you _weren't_ involved. Just tell us what's going on already. This shouldn't be possible."

"Of course, of course. It's nice to see you again too, Rukia," the man grinned. "But I'm afraid I really have nothing to do with it this time. I'm not the one you should be asking."

"Then who should we be asking?"

Kouryuu didn't think it was possible, but Urahara Kisuke's grin grew wider. He motioned for them to follow him into the house behind the shop, and they did. The insane salesman then proceeded to lean out of the doorway between the main room and the hallway, cupping his hand around his mouth as he hollered, "Oi, night owl! You've got visitors! Wake up!"

The man told them it might take a while and asked if they wanted anything to snack on before he left for the kitchen. Kouryuu took the opportunity to glance at Nyoko who was looking rightly nervous. He caught her attention by circling his pointer finger around his ear as he rolled his eyes. She managed a hesitant smile, and that was good enough for him. But when he turned back around, he was sure his heart skipped a beat.

Standing in the doorway, bed head and all, was the crazy woman he'd met on the street. Matsumoto Rangiku.

"Kiiiiisukeee…" she whined, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "How many times do I have to tell you? If it's not Aizen himself, I don't wanna see him. Tessai can handle the shop on-"

"Matsumoto-fukutaichou!"

The woman's half-closed eyes bolted open as she stared wild and disbelieving at the assortment of visitors. Her sight darted from Kuchiki to Kurosaki to the girl and then…

"You…?"

"Tai-!" Her breath hitched in her throat, and she hastily pulled back. "I… I mean Kouryuu. It was Kouryuu-kun, right?"

Before Kouryuu could nod, his mind numb, Kuchiki Rukia had run up to the woman, grasping her arms as if to assure herself they were real. "Matsumoto-fukutaichou! You're supposed to be dead! I-I mean, so was Hitsugaya-taichou, but this is different! You're really here; it's really you! What happened?! What's going on?! We all thought… We really thought…"

Matsumoto didn't look very comfortable with the smaller woman's exclamations, but she took it in stride. "Oh, calm down, Rukia. It's not that big a deal, is it? It's only been half a year. Think of it like … an extended vacation. I really needed to work on my tan," she tried to laugh it off but failed miserably.

Luckily for her, it was right about then that everyone remembered there were two people in the room who didn't belong. "So you're … one of them?" Kouryuu finally hazarded, his voice soft with indecision. "Because I thought we already had this conversation. You mistook me for someone else, but it was just that: a _mistake_. You said so yourself."

"Aw, how cute," Urahara reentered the room, displaying as little tact as usual. "He's having an identity crisis. Look, kid. I'd love to tell you to believe in yourself and all that, but the fact is that you are nothing more than a figment of Ai-"

"Shut up!" Matsumoto hastily interrupted. "If he says he's Kouryuu-kun, then that's who he is! If all that means is that I'll have to get to know Kouryuu-kun too, then I don't see the problem!"

Kouryuu attempted to blink away his surprise, but he was no better at hiding his discomfort than Matsumoto. "You _have to_ get to know me…?"

"Stumped? Here, catch."

The boy's eyes widened as he stepped back to catch whatever the blond salesman had thrown at him. It was long, heavy, and cold. It was a sword. And the moment it contacted his palms, Shimizu Kouryuu checked out.

* * *

"K-Kouryuu-kun! Kouryuu-kun!"

Nyoko frantically shook the boy's shoulders, waving a hand in front of his unblinking face, but no matter how much she called he wouldn't look away from the blade.

"Well, that'll keep him occupied for awhile."

Nyoko slowly turned around to stare at Urahara's satisfied grin. "What did you do to him?" she demanded.

"Gave him back his other half," the man chimed happily. "Or would that be a third now? He's officially two-thirds the man he used to be."

"Stop trying to sound philosophical," Matsumoto growled. "You suck at it."

"Yes, but now that he's out, you can speak freely to our guests, ne? I'm sure Ichigo and Rukia would appreciate the behind-the-scenes replay of the story from someone who was there."

"You were there too," she pouted.

"Not for the entire time. And no one was attacking me. Have fun reliving your worst nightmares!"

"Cheeky bastard."

"I love you too."

"Burn in hell."

"Too late for that," Urahara Kisuke smirked, his hand already on the sliding door. "I'm off to cavort with beautiful, anthropomorphic women! Tata!"

And Matsumoto was left to glare at the now vacant doorway, seething at the man she currently ranked the third worst in the universe. (Even Tousen had the decency to be tactful every once in a while.) "…Why, out of everyone in the world, did it have to be that idiot?"

"Ah… Matsumoto-fukutaichou, if you don't want to talk about it, then…"

The buxom shinigami snapped herself back to reality, her gaze landing on Rukia. She laughed, waving away the other woman's words. "No, no, no. Don't sweat it. It's my fault. I thought I was prepared for anything, but I never even imagined that you guys would get caught up in all of this. Kisuke just likes to piss me off, is all. Something about being hot when I'm angry…"

Ichigo promptly blushed, and Matsumoto laughed again.

"I can tell you guys what I remember, but if I'm going to be honest, it isn't a lot to go off of. If I knew any more about this craziness than you guys, I'd be doing something about it."

"I'm pretty sure you at least know more than we do," Ichigo huffed, his lips downturned into a full scowl as he plopped down on a chair. Rukia sat next to him, but Nyoko refused to leave Kouryuu's side, still making half-hearted attempts to wake him. "All I know is that six months ago, I got back to base to find everybody in shock 'cause you and Toushirou just up and disappeared in the middle of a war. 'Presumed dead,' they said. You don't look very dead to me. And now I see Toushirou walking around in Karakura, only somehow it's not him and everyone's telling me it's impossible."

"Well, that's because it is," Matsumoto shrugged. "Even Kisuke can't explain it, though he's busting his ass trying to figure it out. He's Hitsugaya-taichou; I know he is. But at the same time, he's not. He's a thirteen year old living boy. Reincarnation just doesn't work that way; no soul can mature thirteen years in just six months."

"But somehow Toushirou did it anyway?"

"Nope," she replied without missing a beat. "I just told you it was impossible, didn't I? Aren't you listening?"

Before Ichigo could snark back, Rukia hastily intervened. "Then just tell us what you do know. From the beginning. Please. And we'll help you figure out what's happened to your taichou."

The two women stared each other down for nearly two minutes before Matsumoto finally leaned back, hands finding their way unconsciously to her hips. "Alright," she sighed. "From the beginning."

* * *

_He hadn't answered her. She'd called out to him, but he hadn't answered. She hadn't planned on following; she really hadn't. Her taichou was strong, despite what people saw when they looked at him. He could take care of himself. _

_But she could take care of him too._

_And when she saw how that Espada was leading him away from his division, she knew that her taichou was heading right into a trap. She knew that he knew it too. That was why he hadn't answered. She bit her lip as she sliced clean through another hollow and began tracking her taichou again._

_He didn't _need_ to answer._

_Finally, she caught up to them, immediately lowering her reiatsu until it was undetectable. She hadn't gotten the hang of her bankai when Hitsugaya-taichou had been trying to help them in Karakura, but she'd certainly mastered suppressing her spiritual pressure. Then she had enjoyed many games of hide and seek; now she could use it to watch her taichou's back._

_He was in the middle of a fight with the Espada who had led him here. The Espada was missing an arm, thousands of scattered, bloody icicles detailing exactly what had happened to it. The other arm was unharmed and harbored three long, needle-like claws floating in the air above it. One of his legs was frozen to the ground, and he was looking appropriately battle weary. Unfortunately, Hitsugaya-taichou was in much the same condition. His sword arm was covered in blood gushing down from three deep cuts in his shoulder as his bankai slowly attempted to cover the wound. His body was covered in smaller cuts and bruises, but none of them were as serious as the ones on his shoulder. There was one lotus left floating behind him, four petals. But Matsumoto couldn't even see the Espada's weapon, which was a very, very bad sign. After all, she knew better than most what could happen when a zanpakutou disappeared after being released._

_She frowned at the sight. Maybe it wasn't a trap. It looked like they were actually fighting fair, unless this secluded terrain was something the Espada needed to gain an advantage with his weapon. It was completely barren, no plant life; it looked more like an abandoned quarry than anything else. It was the perfect place for an ambush._

_Her eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as the feeling of dread crept over her entire body. _Ambush._ Immediately, her head shot up, scouring the rocks until she saw him. He was only a few meters behind the Espada, hidden in the shadow of a rock face. A glint of light. A crooked smile. An inaudible command. _

_And Shinsou shot outward in a gut-wrenching burst of déjà vu, skewering the Espada so as to reach her taichou dead on in his chest. _

"_Taichou!"_

_And he moved, using Hyourinmaru to screech against Shinsou's edge and push himself out of harm's way. She jumped down to meet him as the Espada turned on his attacker, obviously as surprised as they were._

"_Yare, yare. I missed. Aw, don' look at me like tha', Stark-kun. S'not like I killed ya or anything," drawled that far too familiar kansaiben as Ichimaru Gin stepped out of the shadows, a retracted Shinsou in hand._

_Stark only turned away from him, scratching the back of his neck with his remaining hand. "You're annoying. And loud. I just wanted to beat this punk so I could take a nap. I didn't know he'd be as annoying as you."_

"_Havin' trouble, are ya? Want some help?"_

"_Not from you."_

"_Suit yo'self," Gin smiled widely._

_Before he'd even finished the words, Hitsugaya had already charged forward, and Stark was completely enveloped in fatal pillars of ice._

"_Haa. Nice work, Hitsugaya-kun," the traitor complimented wryly. He hadn't even flinched. "But the thing 'bout bein' frozen is that ya lose control o' yo' sword, ne?"_

_And that was when everything came crashing down. Literally. The Espada's resurrección revealed itself to Matsumoto in the worst possible way as thousands of long, thin acupuncture needles shot downward from the sky, all aiming for the Espada and, by default, her taichou. Hitsugaya jumped back, his bankai dissipating after his last attack._

_Both shinigami knew what was about to happen before it did. There was nothing either of them could do to change that. The moment Hitsugaya-taichou dove out of the way, Ichimaru let Shinsou fly exactly where he knew the boy would stop. Shinsou was already in motion; there was nothing they could do to change that. But maybe she could change something else._

_Her taichou could take care of himself. But she could take care of him too._

_Just before Shinsou hit its target, Matsumoto shunpo'd into its path. But instead of the stabbing she had expected, she watched as Gin's smile faded into a grimace, and he jerked the hilt so that the elongated blade sliced open her stomach, cut at least half-way through her arm, and then hit something else. She couldn't comprehend where the rest of the flying blood had come from until her legs gave way beneath her and she didn't fall to the ground._

_Standing beside her, holding her up as best as his small frame could manage, was her taichou. His entire face was covered in blood, and she noticed with a detached clarity that there was only one eye looking at her beneath all the red. His mouth was wide open; he must have been yelling, but Matsumoto couldn't hear him. The last thing she remembered was closing her eyes and thinking that he was going to give her hell for this when she woke up._

_It wasn't until a month later, when she woke to a cold, dark, and empty room, that she realized how heavenly that would have been._

* * *

Chapter Seven End


	9. The New Oldies

"_Oh, Spirit fall like rain on my thirsty soul  
Oh, sweet erosion, break me and make me whole"_

_-Erosion, Switchfoot_

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

The New Oldies

* * *

"What does this have to do with anything?"

When Kouryuu looked up for his answer, he nearly had a heart attack.

Urahara's home – floor, walls, ceiling, furnishings, everything – had completely vanished. Nyoko-kun, Matsumoto, Urahara, and the other two; none of them were anywhere to be seen. Surrounding him was nothing but an endless white plain. A _cold_ endless white plain.

But before he could even begin to wonder what was happening, the whole place seemed to quake and a deafening roar rattled his entire body. He whirled around to see something that shouldn't have ever graced story books, let alone reality. A giant, angry dragon of ice thrashed through the surrounding snow, and then, of all things, it spoke.

_**YOU DO NOT BELONG HERE.**_

He instantly recognized the voice, the shivers overcoming his small frame having nothing to do with the weather. It was the voice that he had heard just before that redheaded delinquent saved him. "H-How…?" He couldn't hear his own voice over the sudden winds and the dragon's roars; he could barely stand upright, let alone hear. But disbelief was beginning to make way for panic, and he couldn't stay quiet. "This… This is impossible! Where are we?! What's going on?!"

_**HOW DARE YOU! DO NOT PRESUME YOU MAY COME TO **_**MY**_** REALM AND APPLY **_**YOUR**_** RULES!**_

What the hell was that supposed to mean? None of this made any sense! "Where am I?! What's-"

_**SILENCE!**_ Kouryuu quickly shut his mouth. _**YOU ARE IN MY WORLD WITHIN MY BLADE. **_**YOU**_** STOLE MY RIGHTFUL PLACE WITHIN MY PARTNER'S MIND. YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO DEMAND ANYTHING OF ME!**_

"I-I did _what_?!"

_**COWARD! YOU HIDE BEHIND MY PARTNER IN FEAR OF NOTHING BUT YOUR OWN REFLECTION!**_ The dragon slammed its tail down, making the ground shake mercilessly. _**BE GONE!**_

Kouryuu was just about ready to wet his pants. Nothing made sense; everything was wrong. Just hours after almost being eaten by a damn monster, he was being yelled at by a dragon! Where was the punch line?! When was everyone going to come out of hiding and have a good laugh?! "I'm not hiding from anything!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice hoarse with exertion and the effort it took to hold back tears. "I don't know who your partner is! Please tell me what the hell is going on!"

_**YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND ONLY BECAUSE YOU DO NOT WISH TO UNDERSTAND. YOU ARE UNWORTHY.**_

Unworthy. _Unworthy?_ Who cared, dammit?! What did worthiness have to do with anything?! "Nyoko-kun almost died because of me, and no one will tell me why! Even if I could leave, I wouldn't! Not until I get some answers!"

The thunderous, ear-splitting roar that followed toppled him over in its intensity. If he had thought the dragon was angry before, than it was murderous now. _**WHAT COULD POSSIBLY ENTITLE YOU TO SUCH ANSWERS?! YOU KNOW NOTHING! SO AFRAID OF THE TRUTH THAT YOU HIDE IT AWAY EVEN FROM YOURSELF! YOU DO NOT DESERVE THOSE ANSWERS, CHILD!**_

"I am not a child!" he shouted so loudly he surprised even himself. "I am-!"

And suddenly, the dragon stilled. If Kouryuu had been paying any attention, he would have been sure the monstrous creature was smirking. _**YOU ARE WHAT?**_

But Kouryuu couldn't answer. His eyes were wide as he stared into nothing at all, his mouth still hanging open. He was afraid. The dragon was right. He was deathly afraid. So, so afraid of what he might have said if he hadn't stopped; so, so afraid of the name that was on the tip of his tongue. Because it wasn't his name, and he didn't know why. "I … I don't know."

_**THAT IS BECAUSE YOU DO NOT KNOW ME.**_

His voice was quiet now, the sound once again swallowed by the chilling winds, but somehow the dragon still seemed to hear. "Then how … how do I change that?"

_**YOU ARE PREPARED TO ACCEPT THE RESPONSIBILITY OF YOUR STATION? YOU ARE PREPARED TO ACCEPT MY WORLD AND MY RULES AS YOUR OWN?**_

What was the point in resisting anymore? What was the point of trying to pretend everything was normal, that somehow when it was all over everything would go back to the way it was before? He was never going to win, and he already knew that nothing could take back everything he'd seen. "Yes."

But rather than the answer he'd expected, Kouryuu received an angry, guttural roar. _**ARE YOU PREPARED?**_

"Ye-!" he tried, but this time he was interrupted before he even managed to finish.

_**ARE YOU?!**_

"No!"

He shouted without thinking, without caring. The impossible smirk was back on the dragon's mouth, and Kouryuu could only watch helplessly as his echoing voice cracked the ice beneath his feet, plummeting him into the freezing waters he hadn't even known were there.

_**AND YOU NEVER WILL BE….**_

The frigid temperature of the water had him instantly in shock, and when he opened his mouth to yell in surprise, he hacked up a lung, leaving him with no reserve of air. By the time he gained back enough of his mind to try to swim upward, the hole in the ice had already mended itself, a thick sheet of nothing keeping him from the air he so desperately needed.

He pounded and pounded against the roof of ice, not knowing what else to do. Surely that damn dragon could break through some ice! So why wasn't it? Why was he still down here dying? The panic that had never truly left seated itself deep within his mind, and he hit harder and harder, faster and faster, even knowing that the effort was futile. He needed to get out of here! He had to go back! He didn't want to die! Tears streamed unnoticed into the water around him as he wore himself out just trying to stay near the surface.

Then he saw it. Blurred from the thickness of the ice, the face of the dragon looked down at him from above. Its mouth was moving, but it was impossible to hear what it was saying through the sheet of ice or the rushing of the water. It was just going to watch him drown, he realized. It was just going to sit there talking to no one as he died cold and alone in a place he didn't understand.

A hitch of his breath, and he lost more precious air. He didn't have anymore. The dragon was still talking. The same thing over and over, he realized as he watched the moving jaws, the same movements again and again.

The edges of his vision were fading to black. He didn't notice. He couldn't think; he couldn't comprehend anything. He was just there, and that mouth just kept moving. Stretch horizontally, round into a circle, flatten slightly, stretch vertically, pucker, pause. Without even realizing it, he began to imitate the movements with his own lips, only just keeping his mouth closed enough to keep out the water. Stretch horizontally, round into a circle, flatten slightly, stretch vertically, pucker, pause. He was sinking, the vision of the dragon through the ice shrinking as he lost the strength to keep pumping his limbs. Everything was focused on those minute lip movements. Stretch horizontally, round into a circle, flatten slightly, stretch vertically, pucker, pause.

_Hy Ou Rin Ma Ru._

The voice was so small at first he almost didn't hear.

_Hy Ou Rin Ma Ru._

Where was it coming from? He couldn't hear anything outside. Ah. That must mean it was coming from inside then.

_Hyourinmaru._

Ha ha. What a funny thing to say.

_Hyourinmaru._

Hey now, if he linked the syllables with the lip movements, they matched. What a weird coincidence. Was that what the dragon was trying to say?

_HYOURINMARU._

'Ice ring?' Huh. It really suited him.

_**HYOURINMARU!**_

Kouryuu's eyes burst open in realization. One second he saw the big, red eyes and the sadistic, toothy smirk, and the next all hell broke loose as Hyourinmaru dove through the ice. The world shook as the water exploded into an otherworldly geyser around the dragon's sleek frame, and he opened his jaws wide. He only had a second to comprehend what Hyourinmaru was doing. Then he was being swallowed as the ice dragon flew up into the skies above.

And they were one.

* * *

Urahara Shoten was eerily quiet after Matsumoto Rangiku shared her story. Expressions were carefully blank, but inner thoughts ranged from shocked and appalled to confused and terrified. Despite the awkwardness, there was one question on everyone's mind, and Kurosaki was the only one who could bring himself to ask out loud.

"You don't know … what happened to him after that?"

Matsumoto sighed, a heavy, drawn out sigh that clearly said she'd been hoping no one would ask. "I didn't even regain consciousness until almost a month later. Urahara didn't exactly have Unohana-taichou at his beck and call, and I guess he wanted to keep it secret. You know, so he wouldn't have to deal with Seireitei law and the balance. Urahara came to the scene later. Apparently Taichou carried me and tried to escape, but Aizen and … and Gin took him and left me there. They left Hyourinmaru too."

She let loose a hollow laugh. "It was like they were sending me a message. 'He's not coming back.' And he didn't. Even when I found him again, nearly half a year later … he never came back."

"Don't say that!" Rukia insisted, hands clenched into fists. Only when she had Matsumoto's full attention did she continue. "You never know what will happen! The fact that we're all here is proof! Up until today, we thought you were dead! For all we know, he could walk through that door any minute now!"

"Kouryuu!"

Everyone whirled around to stare at Nyoko, who was now holding Kouryuu upright solely by his armpits. He was soaking wet, shivering violently, and gulping down air as if it might disappear at any moment. Hyourinmaru clattered to the floor, and the sound brought everyone in the room to their senses.

Matsumoto bolted forward to help Nyoko, kneeling on the floor and setting his back against her legs as the high school girl rubbed her hands quickly against his hands and arms to try to create friction. Kurosaki and Rukia ran to the bathroom for towels.

When he opened his eyes, blinking rapidly as he tried to figure out where he was, the first face he locked onto was Matsumoto herself. Everything about her betrayed her surprise when the young boy suddenly grabbed her shihakushou in a tight grip. "H-Hyou… Hyourinmaru… Hyourinmaru says, 'Thanks.'" Shock gave way for a wide smile. "H-He said even an annoying brat like me is better company than you."

The smile disappeared, and she promptly swatted him upside the head.

"M-Matsumoto-taichou! This isn't the time!" Rukia hastily intervened as she hurried back into the room, Kurosaki Ichigo in toe. "Is he okay?"

"He's fine. He learned Hyourinmaru's name. It worked," the former fukutaichou of the Tenth Division assured, her voice breathy as if even she couldn't believe it. She grabbed a towel out of the petite shinigami's hands and immediately began drying his hair.

"Does that mean … he's Hitsugaya-taichou again?"

"No."

Everyone's attention returned to Kouryuu once more. He pushed himself up so that he was sitting without support. His breathing was still uneven, but he seemed to be calming down. Despite his condition though, he still managed an angry, resentful scowl.

"I'm not him."

"Che. Of course not," Matsumoto easily chided, ruffling his still damp hair. "They just don't get it yet, you know? You've gotta be patient and let them adjust. You may look like him, but you're completely different, right? You're Shimizu Kouryuu." Kouryuu blinked up at her blankly as if seeing something he hadn't seen in her before. "Ha ha, even Hyourinmaru thinks so. He called you an annoying brat, didn't he?"

"Ah!" The muffled sound of towels hitting the floor brought a multitude of searching eyes to rest on Kurosaki Ichigo.

"Ichigo?" Rukia demanded, sounding as if she wasn't sure she actually wanted to hear the cause of the young man's lapse.

"Why don't we ask Hyourinmaru what happened? Zanpakutou spirits are part of a shinigami or something, right? Like Zangetsu and me. So wouldn't Hyourinmaru know what happened to Toushirou better than anyone? Kouryuu can ask him what's up," the substitute shinigami offered.

"Er… He-"

But before Kouryuu could say anything more, Nyoko intervened, an eruption of emotion after everything that had happened finally hit her in one, unbearable punch to the stomach. "What are you all talking about now? Just stop it! You're so obsessed over this Toushirou guy that you don't care what happens to Kouryuu as long as you get him back!" she accused, eyes wild in mixed worry, anxiety, and confusion. "Do you even know what happened to him?! How'd he get so wet? Is he okay? No! All you want to know is how you can use him again!"

"N-Nyoko-chan!" Matsumoto tried to calm the girl down, reaching to grab her flailing arms. But the one to still the frantic girl wasn't Matsumoto, it was Kouryuu himself.

"It's okay, Nyoko-kun. I don't _want_ to be fussed over," he huffed, pulling himself to his feet to prove that he didn't need it either. "The situation is … kind of complicated. Besides I don't have to do anything to answer their stupid question."

He turned to the three others in the room, and the confidence he'd had when speaking with Nyoko wavered slightly. For just a moment, he looked like the vulnerable, confused, soaking wet child he was. The moment didn't last long. "Hyourinmaru knew you'd want to ask something like that, and he told me that he wasn't going to tell you anything."

"Why not?" Ichigo demanded.

Kouryuu stared the other boy down. "He said that if you knew what happened, you'd hate him for it."

"Wait up," Matsumoto Rangiku raised a skeptic brow. "He just insulted me, and now he's worried we'll hate him? Since when has Hyourinmaru cared what anyone thought about him?"

"Not Hyourinmaru. Hitsugaya," the boy clarified coldly.

It took a moment for the room to comprehend this new information.

"Taichou didn't want us to know…?" Matsumoto's voice was taut as if her throat had suddenly gone dry. She couldn't move an inch. "What could he possibly have done that he'd think…? No way. I'd never…"

"Damn it! Where's Aizen when you need him?" Kurosaki growled. "What I'd give to just punch his lights out and make him tell us what the hell's going on!"

The substitute shinigami's unexpected outburst broke the sudden hold over Matsumoto, and she relaxed her tense muscles, offering him an amused snort. "Well, you could always try, but be warned, when I went for it, he twisted my wrist, laughed at my struggling, and asked me to share some tea with him."

Kurosaki countered with a sheepish chuckle. "Yeah, just wishful thinking, you know? The war's been on hold for months because he and Ichimaru just up and disappeared. Kinda like you and Toushirou only… Wait."

Rukia was slightly quicker on the uptake. "You met Aizen? He's here?" she yelled, incredulous. "And you had _tea_ with him?!"

"What else was I supposed to do? He still had a hold on my broken wrist."

"Where is he?!"

Matsumoto shrugged, pointing over her shoulder. "He lives down the street a ways in a big apartment complex."

"Hey, when you say Aizen, do you mean Aizen _Sousuke_?" Kouryuu frowned, sharing a disbelieving glance with Nyoko. When the others nodded, none of them could comprehend why the two middle school students were suddenly doubling over in fits of laughter. The sight of Hitsugaya's face laughing as hard as that was enough to throw anyone off, but who in their right mind would laugh over Aizen? They received their answer in the worst possible way. "I can't believe you're talking about him like he's the Antichrist or something!" Kouryuu managed between laughing fits. "He teaches Literature at Mashiba Middle School! We're in his class!"

"Well, crap," Ichigo blinked in shock.

No one could agree more.

* * *

Chapter Eight End


	10. Monsters in Cages

For everyone asking yourselves what the heck happened to Hitsugaya, here's your first clue.

* * *

"_Baptised with a perfect name_

_The doubting one by heart_

_Alone without himself"_

_-Nightwish, Amaranth_

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

Monsters in Cages

* * *

It was only when Kouryuu was already standing next to Nyoko, packed into the train car with the rest of the listless sardines, that he was honestly able to take a moment to think about everything that had just happened. Nyoko's hand was right below his on the metal pole keeping them both from toppling over, but unlike before it didn't make him feel giddy. He couldn't focus on the present.

His laughing had been his downfall, he decided. His and Nyoko's reaction to the mention of Aizen had activated some sort of switch in everyone else's minds. Suddenly Kouryuu himself had become an afterthought. They looked right through him, as if his reaction only proved they were right instead of wrong. The mood in Urahara Shoten had never been light, but the moment Kouryuu admitted to knowing Aizen Sousuke, it crashed down with triple the gravitational force.

Every action they'd taken from then on - the crazy woman, the punk, the the girl with the talking toy, even the shop owner - had been mechanical. Once he was dry, they'd shoved some money into his hands and told him and Nyoko to take a train home, promising to take care of the zanpakutou and to talk to him more the next day. Kouryuu knew that they weren't looking out for him or his family by sending him home. They were getting him out of the way, and they weren't even trying to hide it. He wasn't going to say anything though, not when they didn't appear to have sent anyone to spy on them after they'd left.

Why was all of this crap happening now? He didn't need to deal with this. The ghosts weren't enough? The car accident wasn't enough? Now monsters were attacking him, monsters were inside him, and monsters were leading him around whining because he wasn't their precious Hitsugaya Toushirou. What would be next? Another delinquent overcompensating with a big sword? A giant creature with teeth as big as he was ready to make him into a tea time snack? _Unicorns?_

He leaned into the support pole, feeling the smooth, metallic texture against his forehead. Hyourinmaru shifted within his mind, and he grimaced. This was beyond out of hand. This was ludicrous. Just how much crap could a person fit in his head before it burst?

_**DO YOU TRULY WISH TO KNOW?**_

And suddenly, he was back to the icy tundra of his newly discovered inner world. This time, however, he must have been in a different place. The ground below him was solid, covered in snow and ice, but solid beneath. This, however, slipped his notice in comparison with what else was different. Standing before him was an enormous wall of ice. It proved to be a box upon closer inspection, six sides and big enough to contain an airplane. It was shaking sporadically, as if something inside were trying to get out.

Everything about it was unnatural. There was virtually nothing here but endless snow for miles. Except for the giant wall of ice.

"Hyourinmaru..."

_**WE ARE ONE, CHILD. YOU KNOW WHAT RESIDES THERE, JUST AS I DO.**_

The dragon's tone was laced with anger, but Kouryuu chose to ignore it. He'd only known the dragon for a few hours, and during that time he'd been nothing but angry.

"Then why?"

The dragon leaned low, wrapping himself around the boy as his head pointed toward a figure approaching from the other side of the box. Kouryuu gaped.

The resemblance was uncanny; they could have been identical twins. But this person was missing an eye, the opening in his skull exposed for all to see. Kouryuu's gaze lingered over the raw tissue longer than necessary, something indiscernible flitting through the back of his mind. The remaining eye was glazed over, as if its owner were ill, and he wore a pure white robe, far too thin for the weather. He was as skinny as sin, and yet despite his deathly palor, Kouryuu felt as if the stranger could knock him over with just a finger.

"Who are you?"

"I'm whoever you need me to be," the newcomer replied evenly.

"You're that shinigami." It wasn't a question. Kouryuu knew it to be true.

"I'm what makes you forget everything when you wake up."

"Give me a straight answer, dammit!" the boy cried, half-angry and half-afraid. "You're Hitsugaya Toushirou!"

"Sort of," the stranger finally relented. "I'm what's left. Hitsugaya Toushirou is in there." An unceremonious finger point toward the unnatural block of ice confirmed Kouryuu's worst nightmares, and he subconsciously took a step back. Hyourinmaru wrapped himself tighter around his body.

"C-Close enough! Just get out of my head, and go back to your stupid shinigami pals already!"

"If I leave, the dam will break." The would-be twin was completely devoid of emotion, seemingly unaware of Kouryuu's sudden shaking. Instead, he moved closer to the icy box, running a hand down a long crack. Kouryuu hadn't noticed it before, but now he wondered how he'd missed it. Every time the enormous cube shook, the crack seemed to grow bigger. Or was that just his imagination? "With Hyourinmaru here, it's only begun to decay faster. Your dreams will be more vivid; you'll begin to remember."

"Remember _what_?"

The other's hand ceased its decent down the crack. "The voices. The nightmares. The pain."

"I don't know anything about that! You have the wrong person!" He was shouting now, like he'd shouted at Hyourinmaru.

The dragon could see it in his eyes, his mind, his very soul; the boy was easily brought to his limits, and when he no longer knew what to do, he could only deny everything and hide. It was a wretched weakness, and Hyourinmaru despised him for it. But more than the boy, he despised the man who had created him.

"Of course, you don't know. That's why you're here. Hitsugaya Toushirou's burdens are his own to bear, not yours. But that won't matter when the dam breaks. When the dreams begin to reach you in the waking world, you'll have been warned."

A pause followed - hollow, penetrating, painful - during which the two beings stared at each other, one with fear and hatred and the other blankly, unfazed.

"Protect her."

"Who?" the boy snarled.

"Another death may shatter it completely."

Kouryuu's heart skipped a beat, and this time his voice was only a whisper. "Another...?"

The other slowly turned to face Kouryuu, and for the first time he showed something akin to real emotion. The edge of his lip trembled ever so slightly until he bit it to keep it still.

"Hitsugaya Toushirou's burdens are his own to bear, not yours."

The train jerked to a stop, and Kouryuu's stomach lurched just before something heavy slammed into it. His grip on the support pole was nonexistent, and he tumbled through people's legs and down to the floor. A few disorienting seconds later, he realized that what had landed on him was Nyoko, hastily pulling out her cellphone even as they lie prone on the bus floor.

"What the hell was that?"

"I'm sorry!" the young girl wailed, unaware of the meeting within his mind. "I let go of the pole because my cellphone was vibrating, but..."

A few blinks later, Kouryuu supplied, "I think this is our stop."

They pulled themselves back to their feet, Kouryuu guiding Nyoko through the door as she fiddled with her phone. Not two steps outside of the train car, she moaned. "It's Takeshi-kun. He's called six times, but I never noticed. He and Miki-kun must be worried after what Akane-san told them."

Kouryuu opened his mouth to retort. Takeshi and Miki could worry all they wanted; what did he care? But he caught something out of the corner of his eye and stopped. It may have been because of the upsetting experience in his head, still pumping adrenaline into his system, but in that second of realization, he acted on impulse.

"You talk to him! I'll be right back!"

And he ran, weaving through crowds until he once again caught sight of that familiar brown mop of hair.

"Sensei!" No reaction. "Aizen-sensei!"

The man turned in surprise as Kouryuu ran up alongside him.

"Going home?"

"As a matter of fact, I was," the man smiled lightly.

Kouryuu tried to offer a shaky smile in return, but it didn't turn out as well as he'd hoped.

"Are you okay, Shimizu-kun?"

"Y-Yeah, I just..." For a moment, he couldn't continue. Those amber eyes were looking down at him with such willing understanding and eagerness, just like always, and he suddenly felt as if he couldn't lie to him. Not after all the man had done for him. He may have laughed at the ridiculousness of Aizen Sousuke being some evil megalomaniac, but in truth, it had to be the greatest insult ever thrown at the kindly professor. Kouryuu owed him his life. "Not really."

"You know you can tell me anything, right?" he leaned down to Kouryuu's height, one hand on his shoulder and a concerned frown spreading across his face.

"Yeah. I just ... met some people who were asking about you. They were pretty eccentric, and I wanted to warn you in case they, well ... camped out on your roof or something."

He felt the dragon twist in his gut, and the sudden movement was painful. Hyourinmaru was very truly enraged. His ire wasn't directed at him, but he was the one feeling the effects. Kouryuu wasn't sure how much longer he could stay there before his stomach burst.

"Don't worry about me," the man laughed, lifting himself up once again. "They sound like some old friends of mine. I'll have to put on some tea for them, just in case. Just take care of yourself for now. It looks like you've had a rough day."

He nodded, but just as he was about to leave, Aizen bowed his head. "Thank you for telling me, Shimizu-kun."

"Of course!"

As he returned to Nyoko, he could feel the uneasiness the dragon still held, as if he felt betrayed. "What? If he is who they think he is, he'd know they wanted to talk to him anyway," he defended his decision.

The dragon didn't reply.

"Kouryuu-kun!" Nyoko waved as he approached, and they set off. "Takeshi-kun and Miki-kun want to have a study group tomorrow.

"No way."

"Takeshi-kun promised that by the time we get there, Miki-kun will have passed out from boredom. You're allowed to wake him up however you like."

"...Studying sounds like a good idea. Those two idiots will need it."

And despite everything that had happened that day, Nyoko gigged.

* * *

Aizen Sousuke walked calmly up to his apartment complex, key in hand. He paused before he entered the building, looking up to the roof with a knowing smile.

"It's room 324," he informed his guests politely, and then he stepped inside.

Not five minutes later, Urahara Kisuke, Matsumoto Rangiku, Kurosaki Ichigo, and Kuchiki Rukia stepped into the apartment. Four cups of tea were already sitting upon the dining table, and Aizen himself stood, waving them inside.

"This is quite an unexpected visit," the man intoned wryly.

"Cut the crap," Ichigo seethed. "What did you do to Toushirou?"

"Is that really why you're here?" Aizen didn't seem bothered that no one was willing to touch the cups he'd set out for them, but he would have been honestly surprised if Ichigo was the only one who wished to speak.

"I'm afraid it is, dear Aizen!" Urahara interrupted jovially. "Once Kurosaki came upon your place of address, he simply refused to return home until you answered his naive question. It's a silly sort of code he maintains, you see..."

"Hey!"

"How generous of you to indulge him, Kisuke, but I don't need to tell you anything at all. Your mole will return to you soon enough."

Urahara only smiled wider, tapping that ever-present fan lightly against his lips. "I assure you, I harbor no such animal within my walls."

"No!" Fists collided with the table, and the untouched tea cups rattled.

Kurosaki Ichigo had changed very little in the last six months. War had made him quicker to anger, and Aizen's shikai release had compromised him just five weeks before. But he was still the same rough and tough teenager who would beat up a gang because they toppled a little girl's flowers. Aizen was no different. Toushirou may have chewed him out for it if he'd been there, but he could see this situation as nothing but a twisted, over-powerful bastard kidnapping a child just so that he could claim he'd done it.

"I asked you, and I want to hear it from you! What the hell did you do to Toushirou?"

"I assure you, he is right where you left him," the suave man replied evenly.

"Bullshit. We didn't leave him anywhere. You dragged him away, half-dead!"

"Is that how you see it?" Since no one else was interested in the tea, he took one cup for himself, sipping lightly, patronizingly. "Then tell me, Kurosaki Ichigo. If I am the villain who stole the helpless boy away from you, then who was the cocky, misguided idealist who did not attempt to retrieve him from his prison?"

"He was-!"

"I was speaking to Kurosaki," Aizen chided, and Rukia silenced herself. The master traitor continued, seeming to bear down on the substitute shinigami even though he hadn't moved. "Both parties involved were very much alive. You know this to be true. But those they fought so hard to protect were painfully quick to declare them lost causes. All because of a few red stains soaking into the dirt. Not one of you cared enough to question it. I, the enemy, am by far the more important objective."

"Wrong." All eyes turned to Matsumoto. She stood straight and tall, glaring Aizen down as if daring him to strike her dead. "Hinamori questioned it. Didn't she?"

Aizen's hands stilled. He smirked, as if recalling a fond memory. "Hinamori Momo simply made the same mistake she always has."

"And what mistake would that be?" prompted Urahara, suddenly very interested.

"She admired him."

"A shame, that. Well, it was nice to see you again, Sousuke! Send us a postcard once in a while, would you?"

The end of the visit was all too abrupt for Ichigo, and he hardly understood what was happening as Urahara Kisuke grabbed hold of his forearm and forced him out of the apartment complex. Everyone else filed out obediently ahead of him, even Rukia. Aizen let them leave. What the hell?

"Let go of me!" he finally forced his arm out of the salesman's grasp once their retreat had led them to the empty sidewalk. "Why the hell did'ja drag me out of there? He didn't tell us jack!"

"Were you listening to the same conversation I was, Ichigo?" the man tsked, wagging his finger. "He told us more than I could have hoped for."

"I was certain he would destroy us if we said the wrong thing," the petite shinigami sighed, her shoulders relaxing.

After looking back and forth between the two, then to a stiff and silent Rangiku, he scowled. "What am I missing here?"

"He told us very plainly where Hitsugaya is, how we would find the answer to your question, and even confirmed my suspicions about Hinamori-fukutaichou. Speaking of, that was an excellent segue, dear Rangiku, thank you! I couldn't have said it better myself. Well, I could have, but it was excellent none-the-less." For a moment Ichigo looked hopeful, but Urahara quickly dashed the sentiment before it could take root. "The fact that he did tell us so much isn't a good sign. It means that he knows our only option, once we do discover the answers we seek, will be to do exactly what he wishes us to do."

Ichigo chose to ignore this particular line of reasoning. "But he said Toushirou was right where we left him. I never left him anywhere."

"Of course, you did. Approximately two hours ago, at the train station."

Kurosaki let the information slowly sink in. Then the kid was really...? "And the other stuff? Is Yoruichi supposed to be the mole?"

"Ah, so you were paying some attention after all," the quirky salesman chimed.

The substitute shinigami didn't reply. He had been about to, but on second thought, he wasn't sure he could. Not with Rangiku right there. Back before Aizen had tricked him into succumbing to his shikai, he had sometimes been called in to verify whether certain corpses were legitimate or not. He hadn't known the girl well at all, except for a few offhanded mentions by Rangiku or Toushirou. But he would never forget her. That corpse had been very, very real.

It seemed Urahara had read Ichigo's melancholy expression. "Hinamori Momo wasn't a casualty of war; she was a warning. Headless, a hole in her chest, strung up at the gates of Seireitei only eight days after Hitsugaya Toushirou and Matsumoto Rangiku's disappearance."

Rangiku tensed, never slowing her pace or turning back to face the others.

"That was the reason Old Man Yamamoto declared the Tenth Division leaders dead. He couldn't afford to lose more soldiers in order to recover those already lost."

"He gave up on them," Ichigo deadpanned.

"For the sake of Karakura. Your friends here are still alive because Seireitei has put forth its full force against Aizen."

Silence.

"Hmm?" he elongated the syllable, shutting his fan with a taut hiss and tapping it against his shoulder.

"You're saying we really did leave him."

But before Urahara could counter Ichigo's defeated tone, Kuchiki Rukia leaped into the air and drop kicked her partner clear into the cement.

"Wh-What the hell?" he shouted, scrambling for purchase and clutching his pounding skull.

"Whenever the Seireitei could not perform a duty, who was it whom ignored their warnings time and time again, going against orders in order to complete that duty for them?"

When Ichigo could only stare blankly back, she shoved her foot into his stomach and leaned in close to his face.

"You, idiot! Now get to work! We're not leaving anyone anywhere! Not this time!"

And as she lifted her heel from his gut, strutting forward alongside Urahara, Ichigo shook his head in wonder. "Oi, Rangiku," he gestured from his spot on the ground. "What about you? You in?"

Finally the woman turned around, orange tresses gliding fluidly from her shoulder to her back. Her eyes were moist, but she was smiling.

"Just how many times do I have to say it? I'll do anything for Taichou."

"Well, that's good because I don't have a clue how we're going to get him back."

Rangiku reached down to pull him back to his feet, and they too followed Urahara down the road.

"What are you talking about? Improv is my specialty."

* * *

Chapter Nine End


	11. Baby, Don't Fear the Reaper

"_You're always on display_

_For everyone to watch and learn from_

_Don't you know by now_

_You can't turn back"_

_-Fences, Paramore_

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

Baby, Don't Fear the Reaper

* * *

The next few days passed in abnormal regularity.

Kouryuu and Nyoko visited Urahara Shoten every day after school, although Kouryuu was allowed to take a day off of school due to his accident. The delinquent and his friends properly introduced themselves to Akane that day, and she got to thank them. She had been quite friendly with them actually, ever since they told her they were part of a club that specialized in the supernatural and intended to help Kouryuu with his ghost problem. The younger sibling was about 80 per cent certain that Akane was suspicious, but she hadn't said anything and so neither had he. Not when these people were offering lessons with that sword.

They were agitating, self-absorbed, and obsessed with this Hitsugaya guy, but they knew about ghosts, they told him about hollows, and they were giving him a way to defend himself. Next time, he wouldn't need Kurosaki to jump in and save him. He would tolerate them for that at the very least.

If he had to put up with one of them, had to trust one of them, though, it would most certainly be Matsumoto Rangiku. He could see it in every move she made. She was coddling him, sheltering him from the harsh truths the others spat out on an hourly basis. But even though the act itself annoyed him, he recognized that she was the only one willing to accept Kouryuu as himself. Not since Akane had anyone tried so hard to learn everything about him and accepted it all at face value; not since Akane had anyone tried so hard to make him feel at home. The effort she put into doing so was obvious.

When Akane wanted to speak with these people in depth, Matsumoto hastily volunteered, and no more than two days after they had met, the three of them were eating together at a restaurant table outside. Amidst enjoying several jokes at Kouryuu's expense, the two girls managed to quiet down long enough for Kouryuu to refer to the buxom woman as "Matsumoto." He had been a fool to expect things to stay quiet afterward.

"How cold, Kouryuu-kun! Being so formal with me in front of your sister!"

"Wha-? It's _because_ we're in front of my sister!"

"No!" the woman insisted, leaning over the table to bang her fists on it, clattering their plates. "Call me Rangiku! Right now, we're equals, so we have to treat each other that way. Ran-gi-ku! Ran-gi-ku!"

He agreed in order to save his dinner from her pounding and chanting, but it wasn't until they were saying their goodbyes that he realized Hitsugaya must have used her surname because he was her captain. She was separating them. Hitsugaya was Hitsugaya, and Kouyruu was Kouryuu.

But Kouryuu wasn't so sure anymore.

With a resounding _flop_, he fell face first onto his bed, his knees just dangling over the edge.

Who was Kouryuu really, when Hitsugaya followed him wherever he went?

* * *

_He opened his eyes to blinding white._

_A white ceiling, white walls, white equipment. _

_Then a head of bubblegum pink hair._

_By the time he determined it was too dark to be Kusajishi's, the head was gone._

"_Ah, then he's awake."_

_Even before his vision fully cleared, Hitsugaya Toushirou felt his heart sink into his bowels. He could recognize that voice even with both ears cut clean off._

"_Hello, Hitsugaya-kun."_

"_Aizen!"_

_Immediately, Hitsugaya tried to push himself up, but he didn't make it halfway before jerking back with a agonized hiss. Blood flowed anew from his stomach wound, and the pain brought his memory searing back. _

_That bastard Ichimaru had gutted him._

_So why was he still alive?_

"_The way you scrunch your nose when you're confused is almost endearing, Hitsugaya-kun, but please, do try to follow. It is not as difficult to comprehend as you're making it out to be." _

_Hitsugaya knew the man was speaking like that only to further degrade him, but knowing didn't stop it from working. He snarled as Aizen walked into his line of vision, as calm and composed as ever. His smile, however, was noticeably less satisfied. It was tighter, impatient. Not like it had been on the battlefield._

"_You have been healed to an extent, but not completely, as I'm sure you have realized," the would-be overlord continued smoothly. "I would like for you to participate in an experiment of mine. Unfortunately, this type of experiment does not require you to be in full health. Actually, it will run much more effectively if you are not."_

"_Of course," the small captain bit out, teeth clenched._

_Aizen's expression turned playfully cynical as he raised a skeptical brow, and it was that moment that Hitsugaya lunged forward. He pushed past the pain, the warning signs that raged throughout his small body, the creak of whatever table he was on, and he grabbed hold of Aizen's hideous robes. _

_It felt as if his insides were boiling, as if his torso had been wittled down to nothing but a thin pole sticking out of a stirring pot. Some part of his mind recognized that that was probably what had happened. Reduced to an ill-balanced spine surrounded by heated bodily fluid. But even as his own blood stained Aizen's pristine white clothing, Hitsugaya Toushirou refused to release his hold._

_He couldn't hear his own breathing, but he felt Aizen's as the man leaned his head down to match Hitsugaya's deadly glare. _

"_What now?" he whispered as he stared down his test subject._

_When Hitsugaya didn't answer, Aizen Sousuke laughed. It was bitter, superior, and utterly devastating. _What now?_ What a horrible question to ask. Hitsugaya couldn't have moved even if he wanted to. His entire weight was being supported by his enemy's tall, firm stance._

"_You never did them any good," the cruel man intoned, making it clear that this was the end as his hand enclosed over both of Hitsugaya's. "But perhaps you may prove beneficial to me. Wouldn't that be wonderful? To finally be of use."_

_He squeezed, and Hitsugaya felt anew the torture of having bones crushed by that monster who looked like a man. He cringed in pain, choking on insults but unable to voice them._

_Idly tossing the boy back onto the operating table, Aizen turned back to his scientist. "Close the wounds, but this time, do take care to keep him awake. I'll have the cell prepared in an hour's time. We cannot afford to drag our feet. Understand?"_

_Before he received an answer, he left._

_The cell, Hitsugaya would come to realize, was a prison of more than simply walls or bars, but for now, all he could see were three broken fingers and blinding, blinding white._

* * *

Shimizu Kouryuu shot up in bed, breathing heavily and covered in a cold sweat. His alarm clock told him it was 4:30 in the morning.

He couldn't have gone back to sleep if he'd wanted.

* * *

When Akane opened the door to her brother's bedroom and found him not only out of bed but fully dressed and tying his shoes, she had to resist the urge to shout "intruder."

"Oh, hey," Kouryuu nodded as he looped the shoe lace and pulled tight.

"You're awake," the older sibling finally managed through her dumbfounded surprise.

"Yeah, had a weird dream. It's not a big deal."

"It's Saturday. And you're awake."

The boy grabbed his wallet off a dresser and stuffed it into his pocket. "Like I said, I just had this weird dream is all. It woke me up, and I have something I have to do today anyway, so it's fine."

"But you're _awake_."

"I didn't notice," he sighed in resignation before pushing past her and out the front door. "I've got my cell phone with me! If something comes up, just call."

Akane didn't move from his doorway even as she heard the front door slam. His room was cold, she realized, and a little damp.

Huh. Maybe hell really did freeze over.

* * *

For the first time since this nonsense began, Kouryuu approached Urahara Shoten without Nyoko by his side.

He didn't knock, pushing his way to the back with startling determination. When he finally discovered life in the building, it was one Kurosaki Ichigo speaking in hushed tones to Urahara Kisuke as they relaxed in the kitchen. For once, it sounded as if they were talking about something that didn't involve him, but even after just the few days during which he'd made himself a fixture in this shop, he'd come to understand that if they weren't talking about him, they were probably talking about that war. That was almost as bad.

Less than a week ago, he had never before seen a hollow, never seen a shinigami, only half believed in an afterlife when all the ghosts he'd seen had been mulling around right where they'd lived. Now he was harboring a dragon in his soul, learning how to hold a sword, and standing with only a door between him and a war taking place in another dimension.

"If you're just going to stand there, you might as well open the door. You'll be able to hear better that way," Urahara chimed, and Kouryuu could hear the smirk in his voice.

Grudgingly, he opened the door and scowled at the two expectant people at the kitchen table. "I wasn't eavesdropping. I just need to borrow the delinquent."

"Do you?"

Kouryuu took note that Urahara seemed genuinely intrigued. "Rangiku was drinking last night. It would take an asteroid crash landing at the foot of her futon to wake her up now. So I'm stuck with the leftovers."

"Oi, brat. I am not leftovers," the high schooler insisted, matching the boy's scowl as he stood up.

"So you _are_ a delinquent?" Urahara laughed. He followed suit, jumping to his feet to escort them out even as Ichigo moved to kick him forward. It didn't work, but Kouyruu had to admit it was a nice try. "You're so sensitive, Ichigo."

Was he actually fluttering his eyelashes?

Kouryuu didn't get the chance to ask before Kurosaki hauled him outside.

"So what do you want?" He let go of the kid's shoulder as Kouryuu pushed ahead. Without that frustrating salesman distracting him, Ichigo couldn't help but notice that his companion was acting pretty shaken up. He was usually quiet and blunt, but this went a step further. It was as if he was afraid to look anyone in the eye. "You okay?"

The yes-of-course-I-am-okay-I-just-talk-to-dead-people glare Kouryuu shot him, rife with sarcasm, was amusingly familiar.

"I just didn't get a lot of sleep last night. You're coming with me to the cemetery."

"There aren't enough dead guys at the shop for you?"

Kouryuu's pace sped up. "Yesterday, you were talking about how souls become hollows. If you perform konsou on a soul, it won't happen, right?"

"Right," Ichigo conceded. "You know a soul that's been wandering around the cemetery?"

Kouryuu only rolled his eyes. Ichigo took that as a yes. Good thing he had the badge with him then.

"Whatever stupid shinigami is in charge of this area obviously never noticed her. It's not like she really wanders around. She's always at the cemetery. Probably because she figured that was the first place anyone would look, not the last."

Kurosaki Ichigo vaguely wondered if Kouryuu was trying to insult him. He'd have to have a talk with that afro-guy later, tell him to check the cemeteries more often. Apparently not everyone just hung around wherever they died. Sometimes they went looking for something.

He actually liked the sound of that. In a detached sort of way.

They walked the rest of the path in silence, each mulling over their own thoughts. Through the entrance they trotted, Ichigo right on Kouryuu's heels. Past a funeral taking place. Over the maze of graves. Finally, they approached a small, ornate bench. Surrounding it was an assortment of smaller graves, nothing but horizontal plaques nestled in the earth.

Upon the bench itself, however, sat a pensive woman. She was pretty, Ichigo noted with surprise. Probably in her early thirties with long, dark hair, an oval face, thoughtful eyes, her legs crossed below the knees as she peered down at the graves.

When she noticed them approaching, she smiled wide, getting up to meet Kouryuu halfway.

"I knew you couldn't stay away long. You never quit, do you?" But after her initial greeting, she seemed to realize something was up. She looked down and realized what it was. "No daffodil?"

"Not today," Kouryuu shrugged the question away. "I have something better."

He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb as Kurosaki activated the badge Ukitake had given him and rushed forward in his shinigami garb, Zangetsu set conspicuously against his back. The woman was stunned, unable to move for several seconds, and Ichigo took the opportunity to step up beside the two of them, letting his arm rest casually at his shoulder, fingers wrapped loosely around his zanpakutou's hilt.

She continued to stare for some time, caught somewhere in between fear and intrigue, before her eyes suddenly lit up, and she turned back to Kouryuu. Some sort of silent conversation passed between them as she looked down at him questioningly, and he nodded with a small, contented smile. She quickly turned back to Ichigo.

"So you're my ever-elusive guardian angel, hm?" She offered the substitute shinigami a sly grin as she tapped her chin and analyzed him up and down. "It sure took you long enough. It explains a lot though. Fortune always comes to me a few months late."

"S-Sorry," the redhead muttered, not sure what else to say. It wasn't his fault, dammit, but when she said it like that...

"Well, I forgive you. But on one condition."

Ichigo blinked stupidly before nodding once.

The woman wrapped an around around Kouryuu's shoulders and tugged him tight against her side. "Since you're here to ferry me away, you have to take my place and keep Kouryuu company while he waits."

"O-Oi!" the younger of the boys protested. He tried to pull himself out of her hold, but she refused to yield.

"You have to promise me."

Kurosaki Ichigo smiled. "It's a deal. Now hold still. It won't hurt. Promise."

* * *

"Even if you said yes, you don't have to actually do it," Kouryuu insisted. He'd been complaining the whole way back, and now that they were nearly there, he'd seemed to redouble his efforts.

"Oh, come on. I saw that flower you left behind the day we found you. You were going to leave it at a grave, right?"

"That has nothing to do with-"

"You're obviously waiting for a ghost. That's why you hang out at the cemetery. So I might as well go with you so I can exorcise any we find."

He was so proud of himself when the little brat didn't have an argument that he didn't notice the kid suddenly stop at the door. Ichigo nearly ran into him, giving him an odd look before lifting his gaze to see Shihouin Yoruichi standing in front of them. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and her expression was grim. Golden eyes narrowed as Ichigo stared dumbly.

"Yoruichi! When did you-?"

"Not now. You need to see something."

The foreign beauty grabbed him by the collar and dragged him bodily into the house. A few curses and a hard yank later, he was finally free. He was also in a crowded room with the television playing.

"What the hell? What's this all about?" he demanded, immediately swivelling to face Urahara Kisuke.

But it wasn't Urahara who answered. It was Rangiku. "Kouryuu told me that he'd never heard the name 'Hitsugaya Toushirou' before."

"Yeah, so?"

She only gestured toward the television.

The picture was riddled with intermittent static, but it was still clear enough to make out the basic details. It must have been a security camera or something similar situated in the corner of an large white room. There were two men standing awkwardly near the door and one who was crouched down next to a young boy.

Ichigo recognized who it was instantly. Kouryuu. And suddenly he realized why everyone in the room was so tense.

It was at that moment that Kouryuu peeked around the corner, about to make a dry remark about being left behind. Unlike Kurosaki, his attention was immediately captured by the television and the boy on the screen who was scrunched into a tight ball, repeating a desperate mantra.

"Hitsugaya. Hitsugaya. Hitsugaya. Hitsugaya. Hitsugaya. Hitsugaya. Hitsugaya."

* * *

Chapter Ten End


	12. Heart Choke

"_Can we pretend that airplanes_

_In the night sky_

_Are like shooting stars?"_

_-Airplanes, B.O.B._

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

Heart Choke

* * *

"That's not me."

"Kouryuu..."

"I'm telling you that's not me!"

Shimizu Kouryuu's shout echoed desperately through the crowded room, and there were no more protests. Rangiku watched him with a soft frown, her hand floating halfway between herself and the angry boy's shoulder, while Kurosaki grimaced at the screen, as if trying to figure out how both the video and the boy could be truthful. Kuchiki Rukia was not quite as forgiving.

"Is it possible to fake video like this?"

Shihouin shook her head. "Straight from the source. It couldn't have been tampered with."

"The place look familiar?" Kurosaki cut in, turning to the boy in question.

Kouryuu took a step back. The feeling of being surrounded was becoming overwhelming. The worst part was that he knew exactly how implicating the truth was. Nobody would believe him if he tried to explain. He didn't even want to explain. Just another tally in the endless list of reasons Shimizu Kouryuu was a pathetic outcast. As if he wanted to share something that would pry him away from some of the few people on the planet who didn't think he was completely insane, even if plenty of them were borderline themselves.

"Of course, it does," Urahara answered for him without looking up from the folder that had captured his attention. "Kouryuu-kun was a resident there for several months. Two and a half, wasn't it? In-patient care after a severe automobile accident of which he was the sole survivor. He had several psychotic episodes very similar to the one recorded on that tape. According to these reports, they were quite fascinating."

"Then he's lying!" Rukia concluded.

"No!" Rangiku interrupted before Kouryuu could make a run for it. "When he told me he'd never heard Taichou's name before, he wasn't lying. At least, he didn't associate it with anyone."

The Kuchiki was still bothered, but she seemed to trust Rangiku's word, whirling back to the video with a frustrated pout.

"Of course, he wasn't lying," Urahara confirmed once more. "I said that these actions were categorized as a psychotic break, didn't I? Kouryuu-kun was hardly in his right mind at the time. He was in Hitsugaya-taichou's."

Dead silence followed as the occupants of the room digested the ridiculousness of what Urahara had so casually let slip.

With a gasp, Rangiku joined Rukia and Kurosaki in staring at the television screen. She bent down, letting her fingers caress where the boy was rocking back and forth in the corner of the room. "That's not Kouryuu. It's..."

"How does that make sense?" Kurosaki demanded of Urahara. It looked like the annoying salesman was the only one who knew what was going on here.

Shihouin proved that assumption wrong. "Ichigo, Toushirou and Kouryuu may share the same body, but they're not the same person," she explained, pointing at the boy with two fingers as he took another step back and scissoring them to emphasize the act of separation.

"I know that," the ornery redhead insisted.

"What she means," Urahara Kisuke supplied as he finally looked up from the documents he was holding, "is that there are two souls currently residing in Shimuzu Kouryuu's body."

"That's impossible."

"Ah, but Rukia, it is possible," the salesman regaled. "There is one method that would make such a feat doable. I have no doubt Aizen has discovered it."

There they were again, talking about him, around him, through him. Badmouthing the man he trusted most, saying something was wrong with him, insisting he was the key to this missing bastard of a captain. He grit his teeth, and another backward movement had him hitting the wall behind him. The walls were closing in, and he was losing himself again, bits and pieces of his identity flaking off like dead skin.

Then a new sensation hit him. A cooling, calming feeling that seemed to radiate from his gut outward to every extremity. The angry dragon!

_**YOU KNOW MY NAME. YOU ARE CAPABLE OF USING IT.**_

It was a rebuke, if even that. It was a petulant, aggravated retort. But it reminded Kouryuu of so much more. It didn't matter who the former owner of the dragon was. It was his now. Even if he had nothing else, he had that. If he ever needed it, he could just call the dragon's name, and a piece of himself would be standing boldly before him.

"How?" Rangiku asked quietly.

And everyone was surprised when Kouryuu added, "Yeah, get to the point. I have homework, you know. I can't stand here all night while you beat around the bush."

Urahara Kisuke approved of the change of heart. "Well, if Kouryuu's asking, I guess I have no choice," he conceded wryly.

The blond man closed the report he'd been reading, waving it in the air like a conductor to signal that he was going to start explaining. All eyes were on him, open ears waiting expectantly to absorb the information for which they'd been so desperately searching. It brought a small grin to the man's face, to be the center of such unwanted attention.

"The most important thing to remember is that Aizen's interest lies with Kurosaki Ichigo," he began with a bold swing of his arm, pointing his folder at the frustrated substitute shinigami. Everyone's gaze shifted. "As long as you can keep that in mind, the rest becomes quite clear. If asked the question 'What is Kurosaki Ichigo?' how would you answer?"

"A delinquent."

"A healthy teenage boy?"

"A human shinigami."

"Ding, ding, ding! First round goes to the Lady Kuchiki!" Urahara proclaimed. "Kurosaki Ichigo is alive, but he still houses the power of a shinigami! Imagine you are a man who has thoroughly exhausted the amount of research you are capable of conducting on the souls of the dead, but Seireitei will not give you leeway to conduct the research necessary for experimentation on another living soul with the same potential. If you wanted to further understand how Kurosaki Ichigo's soul functions, what could you do? What resource do you have in abundance?"

"Prisoners of war," Rangiku whispered, slowly catching on to what Urahara was implying.

"Round two to lovely Miss Rangiku," the shopkeeper crowed. "The problem with this, however, was that any prisoners he may obtain would be dead. His only option was to resurrect them. You can imagine that any soul not powerful enough to withstand these experiments did not last long. He would eventually find it necessary to obtain a more powerful subject, a subject of great but not vital importance. Essentially, he needed someone whose disappearance would shake the Seireitei but for whom Yama-jii would not assign a full-scale rescue.

"Hitsugaya-taichou fit that description quite nicely, don't you think?"

"At least look less suspicious when you say things like that," Rukia scolded with a thin frown. There wasn't much heart in her protest. To hear something like that spoken so bluntly...

"That still doesn't explain-"

Before Kurosaki could finish, Urahara cut him off by shoving the psych report into the teenager's face. "We can deduce from Kouryuu's existence that Aizen succeeded, yes? The question is how. The answer is in this document."

Kouryuu dashed forward as Kurosaki opened it, peeking around him to try to get a good look. The others in the room leaned in as well, more than a little curious.

"The official diagnosis does little good for us, but the notes regarding early observation are key. After only two sessions, two of three psychologists were convinced Shimuzu Kouryuu was suffering from Associative Identity Disorder. He had abruptly changed - one moment a violent, emotionally-unbalanced authoritarian figure, the next a quietly frightened child. Apparently, they changed the diagnosis when the two separate personalities began to switch at a faster pace and then fuse. Now imagine this scenario while assuming that, rather than two personalities, two souls resided in the same body."

"One soul, one body," Rukia insisted. "If there were two... they must have fought for dominance. One should have consumed the other."

"The personalities fusing is explained by that battle," Shihouin prompted with a wave of her hand. "Kouryuu's soul was consuming Hitsugaya's. Obviously Hitsugaya's soul was too powerful to be devoured by a normal soul, and he must have halted the process somehow. Doing so left Kouryuu with full control of the body, and he was allowed to stabilize."

"I think I'm gonna throw up," Kouryuu conceded as he scrunched up his nose, the words on the page making him nausious.

"In this house, we do that in the sink." Rangiku gave a quick nod to Kurosaki before ushering the smaller boy into a restroom.

Ichigo didn't understand what the nod was for until Rukia nudged him in the ribs. "Well? Your face says you want to ask something."

His face? Confusion motivated him to turn toward a mirror, and even he was surprised at the concern staring back at him. Brows peeled back, eyes softened ever-so-slightly, lips a thin but unsteady line. Damn, he really sucked at this whole being stoic thing.

"I do have something I want to ask, but..." he trailed off as he eyed the direction Rangiku had taken Kouryuu. It only took a moment of hesitation, however, before he manned up and decided answers were the most important thing right now. He could deal with the rest later. "You guys are talking like it makes sense that the kid's soul was the one winning. Toushirou definitely isn't that weak."

All the playfulness left Urahara Kisuke's posture then, evaporating at the boiling hot touch of such a simple, innocent observation.

"Ichigo, there was a period of four weeks between the day Hitsugaya Toushirou disappeared and the day Shimizu Kouryuu was checked into the hospital."

"Four...?"

A sigh followed, heavy and world weary. "A lot can happen in a month."

* * *

_It was dark. No, not dark. Black was a better word. Pitch black. He couldn't even see his hand when he held it in front of his face. He hadn't quite decided whether he preferred this or the snow blindness caused by the otherwise white-washed walls._

_The first few hours, he'd spent trying to gain a better concept of his predicament - the size of his prison, what it was made of, where the exit was, what sort of noises he could hear from outside the door. The cell was small, just wide enough for him to lay down if he bent his knees a little and about twice his height in length. When the door had been open and light had flooded the room momentarily, he thought the ceiling had reached an average height. The walls were made with the same sturdy materials as the rest of Aizen's would-be palace. No wood or brick to whittle away. The door was some sort of metal, heavy and with an intricate design embedded into it, located along one of the longer walls. He'd save exploring that design for a while, he decided. It was something he could do to pass time when he needed it more than he did now._

_As for what he could hear outside... A prolonged silence had had him worried that the cell was soundproof, but finally he'd managed to hear a soft clattering - metal on stone - and surmised that he would only be able to catch loud sounds muffled by the thick walls._

_Dutifully, he ignored his own condition. He wasn't certain he wanted to know how badly off he was. Every part of his body hurt in some fashion, and it was probably best for him to simply be careful in all of his movements. Rather, he focused on clear problems outward of his person. His reiryoku was shot. That meant the stone cuff wrapped tightly around his ankle was most likely sekkiseki. It served no purpose otherwise. Hyourinmaru, the beautiful blade Hitsugaya was rarely without, was missing. No doubt left behind with Matsumoto's body in the Rukongai or being probed back in those sterile, white chambers. The spirit remained with him, however, and that was perhaps the only reason he was still so calm._

_Aizen wouldn't place him in these conditions for no reason. Even torture for the sake of torture seemed out of the question for the overpowerful mastermind. In that case, Hitsugaya could only assume that Aizen wanted something from him. The man had said he would allow Hitsugaya to be useful. Was he bait then? For whom? The bastard had also insisted on leaving his wounds untreated. No trade would be made then. Whatever happened, he wouldn't be leaving this place without a fight, and at the moment, he had no way of fighting._

_No, that wasn't entirely true. If Aizen wanted something from him, the best way to fight would be to not give it to him._

_No one had ever accused Hitsugaya Toushirou of being yielding._

* * *

"No doubt Aizen inflicted some sort of damage in order to weaken his soul. If either soul was too powerful or too weak, none of this would have been possible. The stronger would have obliterated the weaker in an instant," Urahara confirmed quietly, folding his hands beneath his chin. Now was the time. With Shimizu Kouryuu out of hearing range, he needed to make his point as clearly and concisely as possible. It was something none of them could run away from, and he had to make sure Kurosaki Ichigo understood that. "That, however, is in the past. Our real problem lies in the future."

"And what problem is that?" Rukia frowned, deep and dark. She moreso than the bothered Ichigo seemed to understand the dire situation this created for them, especially the young boy being sick in the restroom.

"Hitsugaya's soul is going to recover its strength. Kouryuu doesn't have much longer."

"How can you-?"

Ichigo stopped when Yoruichi placed her palm at his chest. "It's inevitable, Ichigo. If Hitsugaya's soul is strong enough to still exist, then it is going to grow stronger. Especially if Kouryuu is building his own reiryoku."

"Can't you just take Toushirou's soul out then? If Aizen shoved it in, you can take it out, right?"

"It's not that simple," the behatted salesman replied, his solemnity a stark contrast to Ichigo's agitation. "I warned you as we were leaving Sousuke's apartment that he would not have told us what he did if we could do anything to change it. The small amount of fusion that took place the moment their souls met ensured each a claim on the other. Hitsugaya's soul is buried not beside Kouryuu's but within.

"There is nothing to be done for Kouryuu. You wanted the little captain back, and now you'll have him."

"We left him behind once." Urahara Kisuke met Kurosaki Ichigo eye to eye - cold and bitter green versus angry, steel brown. "It's not happening again."

"Which one, Ichigo?" the older enunciated sharply. "Protecting Kouryuu is the same as killing Hitsugaya. Protecting Hitsugaya is the same as killing Kouryuu."

"That's where you're wrong, old man."

Urahara could tell that Ichigo was holding back an explosion of temper, and so he didn't question when the teenager stomped toward the exit.

"Making a choice is as good as killing both of them."

He slammed the shop's door behind him, and Rukia hastily moved to follow. Urahara let his hat slip down over his eyes, but a moment later, two slender, confident arms wrapped themselves around his neck from behind.

"Trying to discourage him won't work. You know that better than anyone, Kisuke," Yoruichi whispered into his ear.

"I had to try."

"We probably have another ten minutes or so until Rangiku and the kid come out of the bathroom."

"Don't let go."

She didn't.

* * *

A knock on his office door told him that someone was looking for him.

"Come in. It's open."

A young girl hesitantly stepped inside, closing the door behind her. Her uniform's skirt was misplaced on one side. She must have been clutching it rather tightly. A dark bob cut framed her concerned expression.

"Suzuki Nyoko, correct?"

She nodded.

"I'm sorry to bother you after school hours. I'm just really worried, and I know he's always looked up to you, so..."

Aizen Sousuke reached out a comforting hand to her shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"It's Kouryuu-kun," she admitted. "I don't think he wants anyone to know, but I can't stand seeing him like this. These people are trying to help him, but I don't think it's working. They talked about you too, so I thought you might be the only person I could ask."

"Ah, 'these people'? The same people Shimizu mentioned the other day?"

"He told you about them?"

Nyoko seemed surprised, so he thought he should clarify. "He told me to be careful, but don't worry. I let him know that they're just some old friends of mine."

"They didn't sound like they liked you very much."

Aizen laughed. "No. No, they don't. Not anymore."

Nyoko pushed forward then, looking up at him in pleading anticipation. "Then please tell me, can they really help Kouryuu-kun? Or...?"

He smiled.

* * *

_Chapter Eleven End_


End file.
